Taking It Slow
by bobsparrow
Summary: There's something to be said about courting a girl who has only just discovered the world.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **There isn't anything too M-rated in this first chapter, save for a bit of language, but given this story will end up containing an awful lot of hanky-panky, I figured it deserved a home among its kind. If you're hesitant to subscribe with so little background, the central pairing is **Kristoff/Anna**. Everything else is the groundwork. This fic has been fun to write, so I hope it's enjoyed just as surely. :)

**ONE **

Her answer read clearly, long before she uttered a single word.

Kristoff had only barely mastered decorum, but he didn't break through the crowd or interject. He stood still, a face among the crowd. He only hoped Anna would look his way so he could mutely convey his thoughts.

Elsa likewise regarded her sister, worried, wary. She could read the depths even Kristoff could not see. She could see the unravelling complexities and second thoughts. She could understand things about Anna that Anna may not have understood about herself. And Elsa would have reached out to touch her shoulder, guide her away, but she did not. In the end, this was Anna's choice. Anna had been jostled and manipulated and stripped of her agency one time too many. Elsa wanted nothing more than to wane her sister's obvious decision, but she would not. She could not.

Kristoff's resolve eventually crumbled, groaning while he rubbed a hand over his face. Though the hall was considerably full, its silence was concrete. His instinctive reaction echoed.

It drew Anna from her trance, and suddenly she could breathe again.

She lifted her steadfast gaze and blinked, quick little flurries wiping away accidental tears. She laughed awkwardly, forcibly, and glanced across to her sister. Elsa stood near enough to make Anna feel safe, but far enough that she wasn't intervening. She was glorious in her blue and white, a crown upon her head, delicate but powerful hands folded against her stomach. If Kristoff's disruption stirred Anna, then Elsa's supportive gaze fired strength into her heart.

Fervour renewed, Anna looked down at the once-prince kneeling at her feet.

And once more did everyone watch her determination slip, replaced by aching sadness.

"You—" she began. Everyone seemed to breathe in at once. She breathed out and said no more, so their gasp likewise simmered. But that should have been expected for Princess Anna did not exist in gaping, winded moments. She was the unhinged tempest swirling in to catch their breaths, but never when they expected. She stamped her foot and looked at the guards, words tumbling free so quickly they were barely coherent. "Take him to the dungeon and leave him there. We need more time." She said _we_ because it was easier, but she knew it was for her to decide. It was her decision because it was her heart. Elsa told her so earlier that morning, when she sat Anna down and explained what happened.

_He's in Arendelle, _she had said without delay_. _ She didn't need to specify who.

Elsa told her everything. Prince Hans's eldest brother, reigning King of the Southern Isles, exiled him from his own land, from his family, from everything he knew. More than that, he sent the infuriating goon back to Arendelle in chains, his escorts leaving the bold report with Queen Elsa. _This man is a traitor, charged in his attempt to sever the peaceful alliance between Arendelle and the Southern Isles. We offer our sincerest apologies. Thus is he returned to those whom he originally offended. His punishment is to be reckoned by the court of Arendelle, and the Southern Isles shall only receive him at Arendelle's wish to see him dispelled from their land. _ And in the King's final address, he added with a swift flourish, _that idiot wanted attention. Deliver him it. _

And Elsa gave Anna the reigns.

_But he tried to kill you, _Anna dissuaded.

Her sister was persistent.

_Tried, _she had said. _But he succeeded in hurting you. _

At the first relation, Anna was too surprised to think. The day wore on and she hurtled through it, spiralling with emotion. One moment she was consumed with irrevocable anger, the next she was flooded with grief. The sting of betrayal was still sharp, even though a few months had passed. Somehow she felt worse now. Adrenaline and fired emotions gave her strength when the day unfurled, but after months of stewing in her soul, it was more complicated.

But when she was finally summoned, her head was high, her gait steady, and her expression bright. She proudly marched up the steps to look over the throne room. Kristoff smiled from the crowd. People milled about. She looked at her sister and smiled brightly, swishing her skirts, toes tapping. Elsa saw her anticipation and probably knew it would dissipate before Anna did.

Hans was brought forward, dropped to his knees at the foot of their steps. Anna thought herself prepared, but her certainty crumbled most indubitably. He was in plainer garb, a black coat, his face freshly shaven so he would be presentable. Whoever shaved him was careless, leaving little nicks under his jaw line. Though he staggered between princely and not, it was only in dress. Everything else about him was weathered. Dark, tired eyes. A fuming, intense stare. His shoulders slumped, and he sometimes shifted to adjust the strain across his shoulders, brought on by the irons clapped to his wrists. Hands bound behind his back, kneeling before the princess, he was an outcast, convict, and absolute wretch.

It should have comforted her. But she pitied him even while she scolded herself for it. Despite the ridiculousness of it, despite knowing her feeble heart bled too easily, nothing changed. She stood there while the guards grabbed him and dragged him away. He only met her gaze then, and it was no less furious for her postponing his sentencing. But their stare did not linger. He was jerked around, head forced back down. The crowd parted and they left.

Anna stood on shaky legs, wringing her hands. Her ears even rang. She fell so deep in reverie that her sister's hand on her shoulder startled her. Leaping, she squealed and clapped her hands over her mouth.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, and smiled sheepishly at Elsa. Elsa smiled back, but beneath it wore a grimmer countenance.

"Are you all right?"

Anna could be emotional, to say the very least. She loved _feeling sessions_, gushing and spilling her heart, shaping some sort of bond with whoever deigned to listen. But sometimes the very idea was a nightmare. She hated the gaping silence and the sympathetic stares. It was better if everyone just laughed and made merry. Why weren't they laughing and making merry?

"Of course," she said. Elsa knew she was lying, but she also understood. That her sister understood was enough for now. That Elsa did not push was even better. Anna smiled gratefully while Elsa took her arm and squeezed, then turned to dismiss the court.

Kristoff met Anna in the hallway. She chewed on her fingernails as she shuffled along. If only her etiquette teacher could see her now .

"Anna."

Agh, it was that _voice_. The serious talk time voice. Anna slowed a bit, finger in her mouth.

Kristoff circled her and looked down, an eyebrow cocked.

"You all right?"

"Of course I'm all right," she said, a little too brusquely and then kept walking. "Why does everyone keep asking that? I'm not the one in chains."

"I'm just worried," Kristoff said, and walked backwards so he could face her.

"Worried?" Anna switched hands, biting the other nails.

"Yeah, you tend to be a little – well, I mean – "

She glowered.

"You think I'm gonna do something stupid, don't you?" She jabbed him in the chest before he could answer. "_Look at me, I'm Kristoff. I talk to reindeer but Anna's the stupid emotional one who tries to marry nut bars and gets turned into a popsicle_—"

He caught her by the shoulders and she grudgingly fell into an embrace. Cheek squished against his shoulder, she frowned and decided not to tell him that hugs felt nice after the day she had.

"I'm not some kinda bozo," she said, speech a bit distorted as her cheek pressed in.

"I know," he said, and pat the back of her head. He really did need to stop engaging people like animals, but the head-petting was weirdly soothing. "I don't think you're dumb, Anna. I think you're sweet, and lovely, and that you'll do what you think is right. I'm just scared you're too nice and that man—that _thing_ will get off too easy."

"You remember when I punched him in the nose?" she asked, sniffling.

Kristoff smiled, nodding.

"Yeah."

"That was awesome, wasn't it?" Anna asked.

"You do have a mean right hook."

"I used to practice punching invisible pirates in the foyer." She straightened and frowned to herself. "It was easy to find the bad guys back then."

Kristoff pat her shoulder.

"The past is gone, Anna," he said. "Now you can see him for what he is."

"I know," she said, weary. "I know."

* * *

Except she really didn't know, and had been pacing her room for the better part of an hour.

When she thought about _stupid Hans_ and what he did, frustration tore through her. Just like that day on the docks, she wanted to reel back and nail him in the kisser. The satisfying crunch of his nose on her fist rung better than any song.

But every time she looked at him, it was like she couldn't see straight. Like he multiplied right in front of her and she was sentencing three different people at once. There was the charming prince who wooed her and danced with her and talked with her, the man who let her in when no one else did. But then there was the man who locked her in, who left her for _dead_, who tried to destroy everything and did so without a shred of remorse. And then there was some broken heap of a man, abandoned by his family, mentally torn asunder, an unwanted failure better off dead, and she felt bad for him. The first man broke her heart, the second she damned to hell, but the third made her miserable. Hell already looked like a familiar destination, having swallowed him whole to spit him back out on a cold shore. She thought his suffering would ease her, but it worsened her distress. And it certainly did not gratify her. Not like it should.

She hated this. _Stupid, stupid Hans and his stupid stupidness! _

She picked up a pillow and flung it around until it ripped open. Thus she stood in the middle of her room, hundreds of goose feathers floating down around her.

"Stupid Hans," she grumbled, expression dark. Maybe she would sentence him to sit in the corner of her room to be beaten with goose feather pillows every single day. Maybe a stupid man deserved a stupid sentence, like being tickled to death.

But _death_. She shuddered at the thought. His treason reached the highest order. He left Princess Anna for dead and attempted to murder the queen. It was within their right to see that stupid head removed from its shoulders. She wondered how much that would sate her. Maybe if she didn't have to look at him, she wouldn't feel so hollow and inexplicably sad. But then maybe she would feel even worse. Maybe she'd feel bad because he was dead and no one would miss him, not Arendelle, not even his own family. He didn't deserve to be missed, but she would feel awful just thinking about it anyway. It seemed her bleeding heart didn't care for right or wrong. Maybe some weird part of her liked being sad. Maybe it drove her towards this. Maybe it didn't matter what she did.

And maybe he would turn into a ghost and haunt her. He probably would. That bastard.

She sat her bed, sinking into the mattress.

Perhaps a consultation with Elsa was in order. Her sister might leave the final decision to her, but Anna knew Elsa would offer advice if she really needed it.

It was funny how quickly things fell into place after the _incident_. Anna spent years pounding on Elsa's door, sliding down the nearby corridor, singing in the halls, hoping and praying for a glimpse of her sister. And nothing. Not ever. Now she hadn't even finished knocking before the door opened and Elsa pulled her in.

"Don't let anyone else in," Elsa said, locking the door quickly. Anna watched her strangely, but obliged to discretion and quietly crossed the room.

"What—" she began, when she saw it and giggled. "Oh, Elsa."

The queen had a massive plate of chocolates sitting on her vanity. Elsa usually squirmed through deserts because etiquette said genteel ladies did not stuff their faces with chocolate. Elsa was very good at being a lady, at least in public. Anna's self control was not so impressive, but it clearly ran in the family. Elsa popped a chocolate in her mouth and sat down on the edge of her bed, smiling shamefacedly at her sister.

"I was hungry," she said, speaking around the chocolate. Decidedly unladylike. Anna giggled and took a chocolate as well. Once their giddiness subsided, Elsa donned a regal, serious air. "Are you here about the prisoner?" Anna was unsure if forgoing his name was better or worse. But she nodded quietly, sitting on the vanity chair. In perfect Anna custom, she unceremoniously draped herself over the back of it.

"I'm so confused," she said. "It's like I hate him and want all this bad stuff to happen to him, but if it actually happens I'll just feel worse."

"You don't want to stoop to his level."

Anna hadn't thought of it like that, but she supposed there was some merit. A little encouraged, she nodded.

"I guess so," she said. She took another chocolate and proceeded to speak with her mouth full. "I mean, I don't really feel bad for him. He's a bad man and I'm not letting him off easy. But it's also so hard, you know? I just don't know what to think. And I keep changing my mind. Constantly!"

"The mind does sway," Elsa said, inclining her head. "I have learned, however, that the heart is more persistent."

Anna was quiet for once. She kicked off her shoe and traced circles on the floor with her toes.

"I don't love him, Elsa," she eventually grumbled, partly embarrassed because she knew she once did. Or thought she did. She wasn't even sure about _that_ anymore.

"I know, Anna," Elsa said. Something about the way she said it made Anna look up, invisible circles forgotten. Elsa smiled kindly. "But it doesn't have to be like _that_. I just mean you don't have a heart for vengeance and retribution. You would rather see him rehabilitated. Saved. But you also know that he won't change? His heart is persistent too. And his heart is—"

"Frozen," Anna said, breathing out. A little puff of air proved how chilly the room was. Elsa was worried or uncomfortable or something. She probably didn't even notice the change in temperature, so Anna didn't comment. "I know. And it's not like I want to sit him down with a bible or something and save his soul. But is the opposite of letting him walk really only death or a lifetime of torture and misery and stuff? I don't... I don't want to be responsible for that kind of suffering. No matter who it is or what they did to me."

She almost wished she could. She was certain Elsa could stomach it. Elsa whose body was ice and heart was fire. A burning white cold, ruthless if she had to be. Anna was a little flower, easily trodden. She was happy to punch stupid Hans in the face and ship him off to the Southern Isles, but anything beyond that was too great a burden.

Of course, now she was hesitant to return him. It may have been a punishment surer than death or torture. She didn't know. She was scared. She felt like such a foolish little girl.

Elsa waved her over and Anna obliged, happy to move if it meant distraction. Like a little girl standing before her peer, Anna twisted her foot inwards while Elsa took both hands in hers. Anna squeaked because they were cold, and Elsa smiled fondly.

"Sorry," she said with a little chuckle. Anna smiled back.

"It's okay."

"There are a few options here, Anna," Elsa said. Anna perked up, ecstatic her sister could help. She would trust almost any counsel delivered by Elsa, especially now. "It doesn't have to be daisies or chopping blocks. For one thing, we could make him work. A means of paying off his debt, so to speak. Maybe on the ice rigs."

Anna couldn't see Hans doing labour. She just pictured him sitting on a block of ice, inspecting his nails while some sorry sod pushed it around.

"Maybe," she said anyway. "What's the other option?"

"Sending him back again. Leaving him to the mercy of his brother. Brother_s_."

"They don't seem to care for him," Anna said.

"With good reason, it seems." Anna blinked at her vindictive tone and Elsa quickly tempered herself. "He won't get anything he doesn't deserve," Elsa said, a little more diplomatic. Anna nodded, biting her lower lip.

"I'll think about it," she said. Elsa had given her a few things to consider, but not as much as she hoped. Anna was still unsure. "When is the next summons?"

"Is tomorrow morning enough time?" Elsa asked.

Anna nodded.

"Yeah," she said, and tried to don a cheery air. "That should be great. Thanks, Elsa!"

Elsa stood only to be knocked back again, Anna flinging herself onto her sister. They tumbled onto the bed and Anna kissed her temple before righting herself. They both giggled. Elsa sat upright and Anna saw herself out, taking one last piece of chocolate as she went.

* * *

"Do you have to go?" Anna whined, hanging upside down off her bed.

"I don't even think I'm supposed to be here _now_," Kristoff replied, voice laden with usual worry and equally usual delight.

It went without saying that Kristoff did not live on palace grounds. He was, however, free to come and go as he pleased. There were social provisos, but they often went unchecked, at least where Anna was concerned. His new (and apparently necessary) etiquette teacher was the same Anna once had, but Kristoff retained far more than she. He felt he had something to prove whereas she was the princess no matter what. As a result, she orchestrated all their meetings. He was always scared of overstepping propriety, but Anna had no idea what boundaries were. And if she did, she mostly disregarded them so long as the consequences were harmless. She was always smuggling Kristoff into her room, or tricking him into visiting – _oh, Kristoff, I am so weary! You must attend me this very moment!_ – and though he made a fuss every time, he always succumbed to her cuddles and giggles and shy little kisses. Her plotting was infallible.

But he never stayed long.

"I have to get home," Kristoff said, hopping around as he pulled on a boot. "Sven will be worried and Olaf's probably eaten half the winter supply of food." He usually pulled the Olaf card when he was serious about leaving. It was a not-so gentle reminder of his endurance, living with a yappy snowman who trailed slush all over the cabin. He adapted the burden because talking snowmen were "inappropriate" palace guests as they "send visiting dignitaries into cardiac arrests" or something. But Olaf needed a home, and Kristoff volunteered. Thus when he mentioned their snowy comrade, Anna sighed. She rolled onto her stomach and watched him lace up his coat.

"Will you be here tomorrow morning?" she asked.

"Tomorrow morning?" he echoed, pulling on a woolen hat. "Why?" He regarded her with an air of suspicion and she giggled profusely.

"Not _here_," she said, spreading her arms in gesture to her room. "The court summons."

"Oh!" He pulled on a glove and smiled. "Yeah, I'll be there."

"Good." She was quiet after that, chin in her hands and gaze turned to the floor. She stared at the carpet anew, utterly raptured by its designs. At least so it seemed. Kristoff watched her disposition change, her eyes clouding over. Pulling on his other glove, he approached and knelt down in front of her. She looked from the carpet to him, lowering her head so her chin pressed into the mattress.

"Hey," he said, softly. "It'll be all right. You don't have to face this alone. We'll all be there."

"I know." She pressed her entire face into the bed. "Thank you."

She was hard to hear through all that fabric, but Kristoff smiled fondly and pat the back of her head.

"Get some sleep," he said, sternly but amiably. She lifted her head to watch him leave.

"I will," she promised. "You know my motto—"

"The sooner you sleep, the sooner you get to wake up and eat breakfast," Kristoff finished. Anna smiled, though her silly catchphrase didn't work to lift her spirits. He frowned watching her try, but when she realized he wasn't leaving she shook her head.

"I'll be fine, Kristoff. You should go. It's getting late anyway and you're not supposed to be in here after supper."

"I'm not supposed to be in here at all," he said, and for some reason his admonition made her smile. He shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. "Good night, princess."

"Good night, ice man."

He left without much ceremony, slipping into the empty hallway. It was always best to leave quietly. He had no idea what protocol followed the discovery of a man in the princess's chambers, even if their interaction was wholly innocent, but it couldn't be good. He skid down the hall and turned a corner, nodding casually at a guard on patrol. The guard gave him a suspicious once over but let him pass. Kristoff breathed out, then smiled to himself.

Getting caught would probably be bad. But it would probably be worth it anyway.

* * *

Needless to say, sleep did not easily find Anna that night.

But really, today had been _excruciating_. Each hour felt like a year! Nothing could ease her mind so she just stayed in bed, staring up at the canopy and replaying the day's events over and over. Each recollection conjured a different emotion, and differently each time. She groaned and pulled a pillow over her head, blocking out conversations and odd glances. _You don't want to stoop to his level, _Elsa's voice reverberated. _No one cares for him, and rightfully so. _ Then there was Kristoff – _you tend to be a little... _ Stupid, she told herself. Stupid stupid. Like stupid Hans and his stupidness. _You don't have to face this alone. We'll all be there. _At least that memory was a little more supportive...

She shot up in bed, hit with a sudden epiphany. After unwittingly tangling herself in bed covers, she threw herself off the bed and landed in a heap on the floor.

"Whoop!"

She kicked the sheets away and rubbed her now throbbing chin. If she wanted this to work, she would need to be stealthy. Unfortunately, stealth was not her niche. To say the least.

But temperance of her mind grew suddenly apparent. Sentencing Hans at court was _terrifying_. The stares, the expectations, those long empty silences where no one even breathed, her sister watching her, Kristoff watching her. It was no wonder she couldn't think properly in there! And sitting alone with her thoughts did nothing. Her thoughts were befuddled, so how could they help her? If she was forced to greet the court and sentence Hans, history would repeat itself. She asked herself how she could be so bold as to punch him off a ship but not utter a few meagre words, but it was so obvious! She could face Hans alone. Having all those people didn't feel like support, it felt like a burden. Everyone told her this was a matter for her to decide. Well, if it was so personal than why all the pomp and circumstance? Everything felt so much bigger than her. Elsa was supposed to govern, not Anna, and not like this. If this was about her, then by god, she was going to face it the way it ought to be faced. The way she had to face it. She could not wash her hands at a distance. No siree.

It was time to lay down with the dogs.

One dog. A stupid dog named Hans.

She dressed in day clothes, not wanting to give him anything he could snark at. Pyjamas were definitely snark-able. She tied her hair back, though she forewent stockings and shoes. Creaking open her bedroom door, she peered into the hallway. Deserted. She had no idea what schedule the guards kept at this hour, but she hoped for the best and bolted. Bare feet were definitely a good choice. Though stocking surfing was super fun, this wasn't a good time to barrel into paintings. And aside from the faint slap of her feet hitting the marble floor, it was mostly quiet.

When she finally reached the dungeon, she was still unsure of her next step. The patrol would be thicker here. Should she try to sneak by? Probably not. Getting out of her room was easy, but getting into the dungeon would be a difficult travail. At least, she hoped it would be. She feared for the safety of Arendelle otherwise.

Poking her head into the main office, she saw a couple of soldiers having a casual conversation. She ducked back against her wall, breathing out. There was definitely no sneaking by. Even if she somehow passed them, they'd find her pretty quickly afterwards. And since when was she a law breaker, anyway? Since never. A rule breaker, maybe. But laws, no.

And she was the princess! They had to listen to her! Well, they had to listen Elsa. They could probably still reprimand Anna, and she would probably shuffle back to her room in defeat.

But that didn't mean she couldn't try!

Hands behind her back, she swivelled and took a hearty step... right down a bunch of steps. It was a good thing she decided to waltz in, because failing to notice stairs was probably a bad thing for stealth.

Crumpled in a mangled heap on the floor, Anna let out a squeak. The guards naturally rushed over, exclaiming her name as they righted her. Once she was on her feet, only a little bit dizzy, she smiled her most dazzling smile.

"Right then," she said. "Now that that's sorted... Gentlemen, I would like to see the prisoner."

The two soldiers exchanged a glance, then looked at the princess.

"The prisoner?" One soldier asked. He had an impressive moustache, one that made Anna crinkle her own nose. "Princess, who sent you here? And at this hour?"

"Myself and... myself. Look," she drew closer, speaking in low tones, "there is going to be a summons tomorrow and I just... I need some... closure... before the sentencing is finalized. You don't want to go giving me some kind of guilt complex just because you didn't let me in to see him a few hours before the big court party, eh? Eh? Eh?" They just stared at her. With a sigh, she threw her hands up in surrender. "Please! I'm not above begging! I need to do this! Do you want me to beg?" She clasped her hands together and stuck out her bottom lip. "Please, please, please, pleaaaaase—"

"Okay, your majesty, wait," moustache-soldier said, gesturing she quiet down. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Our supervisor will be back in less than half an hour. Alek will take you in—"

"I'll do what?" The shorter, moustache-less soldier interrupted.

Moustache ignored him and continued, "You get in, you get out, you go back to your room, and this never happened. All right?"

"I'm ready to rumble," she said, clapping her hands together. "Bring on the icing sugar."

"I don't know what that means," moustache-soldier said, "but go with Alek."

"Come on, Princess," Alek grumbled, clearly less than thrilled.

She followed Alek into the dungeons, the stone floor freezing under her bare feet. After a few minutes of walking and shivering, Alek looked back at her. Furrowing his brow, he lowered his gaze to her bare feet and frowned. It wasn't his place to interject, however, so he turned back around and led her onward. They eventually came upon a door, seemingly unmarked, but that may have been the shadows fooling her eyes. She jumped at a sound behind her, but there was nothing. Just more doors.

"Wait here," Alek said, unlocking the door with a large brass key. He stepped inside and slammed it shut behind himself. Even though she was watching, the sound made Anna jump. It was like a gunshot in the silent night. She breathed out, breaking the cold air with her warm breath and rubbing her hands together.

_What are you even going to say? _Anna asked herself, bouncing from foot to foot.

_Hello Hans, _she mentally recited, and dipped into a physical curtsy. She stood straight and frowned, shaking her head. No curtsying. That was a formal sign of respect and address. He deserved neither. _Hello Hans, _she tried again, crossing her arms and looking down her nose. Then she wondered how he would be positioned. He was no doubt chained to the wall, but the chains gave enough leeway that he could pace a bit of his cell. Not much of it, no, which meant she would be safe at a distance. But still, if he chose to stand, which he probably would, then there would be no looking down at him.

_Hello Hans,_ she tried once more, staring upwards pointedly. _I wanted to have a word with you before the summons. I figured your present schedule wasn't too tied up. So to speak._

Puns were probably a bad idea.

_Hello Hans, _she tried one last time, but the cell door finally opened. Though its gentle creak was far less than its canon-fire slam, she still jolted. Alek disregarded her alarm and stepped aside. Holding the door open for her, he watched her solemnly.

"I'll be right out here," he said. "Five minutes then we should go."

She nodded and stepped carefully into the dank cell. It was dark, murky, and smelled like sea salt. It was somehow even colder than the corridor. A small oil lamp sat flaming on the barred, miniscule window, and aside from the faint blue wash barely bleeding through iron, the lamp's flickering dance was all that illuminated the room. Anna doubted its place was custom. It was lit for her, which meant Hans was laying in the black all this time.

She was immediately uneasy, so much so she forgot her entire endeavour and wound up staring at that small lamp. Utterly transfixed by the ghastliness of prison, she did not stir until a voice spoke through the dark. That _voice_ which once opened so many doors in her heart but now triggered her to fetter every last inch of her soul.

"Well, I must say, this is unexpected."

She turned towards the voice, backing herself into a corner. She had no idea how far he could reach, but she hoped it was not this far. She had no idea if Hans even wanted to kill her. If it achieved no end, would he bother? Maybe he would, if only for the satisfaction. She had no idea. She had no idea who Hans was. She knew about a shadow and an imaginary friend. That was it.

"Hello Franz," she said, then realized herself. "Hans." Given her only rehearsed address failed, she didn't have much hope for the rest of their dialogue. Clearing her throat, she stood straighter even though he couldn't see her. At least the darkness made them equal, neither watching the other. She could only guess his whereabouts by his voice, but he must have been standing because his chains rattled as he moved about. Their clinking all but stopped her heart. Anna leant against the wall behind her, the cold flush a simultaneous comfort and nightmare.

"Franz?" he asked. She groaned. Here was the oncoming snark attack. "I'm insulted, Anna. Have you forgotten me so easily?" His voice somehow oozed, all oily and thick beneath a weathered coarseness. He was sick and cold but no less swollen with pride. She furrowed her brow, staring at the black in frustration. "Oh right," he laughed. Why was he laughing? He was not supposed to be laughing. He was supposed to be begging for forgiveness or at least letting her talk. Didn't he want to know what she had to say— "You did forget me. In fact, you moved on pretty quickly, all things considered. I'd even say you moved on before you knew you had to."

He reached the light and she released a breath she unconsciously held. She did not feel so foolish, knowing he couldn't see her. He stared in her vague direction, that gaze resolute and intense. Just like it was earlier. Just like she remembered from before. He was always severe in his regard for her, whether it was false affection or sure-fire ambition. But she overcame her momentary lapse and watched him from her hiding place. He couldn't step any closer; she could see the chains were high and taut. She used their position to her advantage and opted to remain in shadow.

It took her another moment to register everything he said, and once everything settled she huffed indignantly. It was all the reply she managed before Hans continued.

"He's what?" Hans asked, eyes narrowing as he stared into the black. "Some kind of mountaineer peasant oaf? I guess you really _don't_ have standards."

Her next step wasn't part of the plan, honestly. But it did feel good.

Suddenly determined, Anna marched out of the shadows and smacked him clean across the face.

Yup. Definitely felt good.

At least until she realized that was his intention, because now she was in the light. Head turned, biting his cheek, Hans nodded to himself. When he looked back at her, they were much too close. This time she definitely stopped breathing, and this time he definitely saw.

"So when's the wedding?" he asked. "Will there be ice cream and sandwiches?"

"There is no wedding." Anna sneered and crossed her arms. "And I didn't come here to talk to you about ice cream and sandwiches."

"Oh, but I love our long talks about useless garbage."

That probably stung more than any slap. She had told Hans everything that night, an evening not so long ago when she unabashedly poured her heart into every word. As if she needed the reminder of his falsity and deception, here he was flinging everything back into her face all over again. Here he was reminding her of how stupid she had been. How weak. She was still weak. What was she even doing here? Right. Because she was too weak to speak up for herself with all those people watching. But why did she think this was the better alternative? She couldn't remember now, not with him staring at her and that lamp flickering and this cell reeking and her mental clock ticking and _stupid, stupid Hans with his stupid stupidness_—

She wasn't sure how it happened. Sometimes Anna just did things and thought about them later. And it wasn't even things she understood! She just threw herself headfirst into the unknown. She was the type of person to leap off a cliff, happy to free fall if necessary.

And when she realized what she was doing, she desperately wished for a cliff to do just that.

At some point her ire consumed her, and she must have grabbed his face. She should have snapped his stupid neck, if that was even something she could do, but for some reason she started kissing him. And it wasn't like how she kissed Kristoff. She loved to kiss Kristoff, almost as much as she loved to cuddle his big squishy shoulders and bury her face in his hair. And she was very careful and calculated with her kisses, distributing them at just the right moment. These things were important, she knew from her books. Books were monitored by the palace censors – they couldn't have the princess reading filth or revolutionary conspiracies, and depending on who you asked the former was worse than the latter – but she still knew about kissing. Soft kisses, gentle kisses, kisses of true love. Being dipped in a dance, hair swishing against the floor, and soft lips upon her own. Pucker your lips, she knew. Close your eyes, she also knew. Smack, _mwah_, just like that and it was done. The perfect kiss.

This kiss was aggressive. Could kisses even be aggressive? They certainly weren't in her books. She supposed a frustrated Prince Charming might have kissed Snow White harder if he couldn't break the spell, but that was never a problem with true love.

Which made sense, she supposed. Hans was not her true love, which meant kissing him shouldn't feel right. It had to be aggressive and forceful and full of hate and stupidness.

Still... she probably shouldn't have been kissing him at all. Puns and curtsies were better than this.

She had every intention of pulling away to smack him, but he interrupted their lip lock by flicking his tongue against her bottom lip. Shivering – because of the cold, thank you very much – she gripped the lapels of his coat tight in her hands. She just wanted to be near his neck in case she needed to strangle him. Yeah, that was it. She might even do it by accident, gripping even tighter as he repeated the action. She gasped, the brief respite affording him an instant to work her mouth open with his own and kiss her, wet and whole. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she subconsciously pulled herself closer, hanging onto him by the coat lapels.

This was definitely not in any of her books.

She startled herself with a weak little mewl. It broke the spell that caused her to _kiss_ Hans and turn all goopy. Ripping away from him, she took a few solid steps back into shadow.

Hans smiled, a serpentine smirk of absolute malevolence. She tried to focus on the sinister leer and not his heady stare or the swollen pink of his lips. Did she look like that? She almost touched a hand to her lips, but decided against it. Whether or not he could see her was irrelevant.

"Well, isn't the princess just full of surprises," he drawled. "Just _dying_ to see what you almost had, hmm?"

She stomped towards him, jutting out her chin.

"You. Are. Despicable," she said and crossed her arms. She turned her pointed stare upwards, hoping her tenacity would not falter. "I don't want _anything_ to do with you—"

"Then why are you here?"

"Because—because I..." She breathed in through her nose, snorted, and stomped her foot. "Because I wanted to _talk_. Not talk, like, talk to you. Talk at you. Me talk to you. And you quiet. But you are such an irritating little weasel I just—" She throttled an invisible Hans and snorted again. Why did fury make her snorty? Elsa shot icicles everywhere but Anna just had to inherit the snorting gene. "But never mind," she said. "At least now I can separate the other yous from this you. I hope you like prison, _your majesty_."

She stormed away, pounding her fist against the door. Hans must have tried following her because his chains suddenly clanged and he grunted. She glanced over her shoulder, looking at where he stopped just a few feet away.

"There's just one more thing you should know before you sentence me," he said. She glared at him, fighting to decipher his stare. Though his brow was furrowed, the haughtiness of his glance was superficial, scarcely concealing a strange sort of vulnerability. But she told herself not to be fooled. Was it concealing vulnerability or intentionally revealing it? Hans was a silver tongued snake.

"And what's that?" she asked anyway, crossing her arms. She heard Alek at the door, key jiggling in the lock.

"When I first met you," Hans said, and dropped his voice low, "I didn't know who you were until you told me."

The weight of his words didn't quite settle in her mind, not until the door opened and she stumbled back out. Alek went into the cell again, leaving her outside by herself.

_Didn't know? _ she asked herself, and thought back to the day they met. He had been gentlemanly from the very beginning, all smile and grace and charm. So what was he trying to imply? That he wasn't an evil lunatic hell-bent on chaos, but some kind of benevolent prince charming with a few steps to climb? Gobbledygook! This tale was one of two things: an absolute lie or irrelevant nonsense. He was trying to mess with her head. He just wanted to strike where it hurt. He wanted to break her heart, by any means. And his scheme was plausible, putting an idea like this into her head. If he was charming when they met, then it was for her, plain, simple Anna, and maybe he would have liked her if things were different. But no, she told herself. Hans was manipulative and cruel. He was toying with her mind. There was no merit to this story, whether true or false. He would have still been Hans. He would have still committed atrocities in order to gain power. He just wanted to see her suffer, watch her toil over him, break her own neck and shatter her own heart in an effort to reconcile the past with the present, and the present with the future. He knew she was confused. He knew she was broken, because he was the one to drive the first belt. Her heart was ribboned with scars, her soul a heavy tissue and not some celestial comfort. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly so incredibly sad she had no idea what to do.

"Princess?"

Alek had emerged at some point. Anna wasn't sure when. She turned a watery gaze towards him, her stare unseeing but so boundlessly miserable. Though Alek had seemed frustrated by this whole endeavour, he turned suddenly sympathetic. If it was not too bold, he might have laid a hand on her shoulder. But he just stood there, clutching a ring of keys and watching her sorrowfully.

She sniffled, wiping the first tear that fell, but forcing a smile through it all.

"I'm okay," she said, even though it was a ridiculous lie at that point.

She followed Alek back out, feet so cold she hardly felt the prickling ice of the jail floor. Alek spoke with his partner when they arrived back, and it might have been about her, but Anna ignored them entirely. She shuffled out the door, arms still loose about her own waist. Her chest tightened, threatening to choke her, a blockage wrought by unshed tears and pent-up sobs. Her vision blurred the longer she walked, and before she made the conscious decision to venture that way, she found herself outside a familiar door. She knocked lightly, then touched a hand to the doorknob. A gentle push and the door gave way, and for some reason that triggered her foggy mind into release. She began to cry, a silent stream of tears as she shuffled into Elsa's room and closed the door behind her. Her sister slept soundly, but at the faint disturbance was roused.

"Anna?" her groggy voice whispered. "What is it?"

Anna, struggling to see through her tears, stumbled to her sister's bedside. Elsa woke a little more surely, sudden alarm taking to her features. She sat up straight and Anna was in her arms before she even motioned her forward. Anna cried audibly then, curling up against her sister and stringing her arms around her neck.

"Anna, what happened?" Elsa asked gently, cupping the back of her head.

"I'm so stupid," Anna wheezed, then continued to cry. Elsa emitted a sad little sigh, one that said she understood why this happened. She may not have guessed where Anna just was, but at least she knew it was the same cause. Anna held her tighter and cried harder, and Elsa pulled her down against her chest and cradled her.

"You're not stupid," Elsa said, running a hand through Anna's hair. "It's okay, Anna. It's okay."

Anna cried until there was nothing left, just a hollow ache in her chest and a stutter in her breath. Elsa leant against the headboard, Anna in her arms. Her arm circled her younger sister's head, tucking it beneath her chin. Anna's bottom lip quivered even when she had no more tears to cry. For once, she also had nothing to say. And it was never Elsa's wont to speechify, never her habit to console with words. After silence embraced them for a long enough time, she tipped Anna's head back and looked her in the eye. She smiled gently and Anna felt a little more at ease.

So much so, Anna even smiled when Elsa tipped her head and asked:

"Do you want to build a snowman?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you for the lovely reviews, faves, and follows! I apologize for not personally replying to the reviews, but it's a busy time of year! I figured an update would be preferred anyway. I meant for this chapter to be shorter but it's longer. Ah well! Hope it's enjoyed! :)

**TWO**

Anna positively beamed, a happy glow so bright she was almost blinding to behold. She stood by her sister, Elsa sitting proud upon her throne and Anna's hand resting on its back. Kristoff was so distracted by the sight of Anna, he didn't even notice the unusual state of the throne room. He blindly crossed the floor, a certain snowy specimen bounding behind him. Olaf was tossing flowers as he slid along. Merrily, he sang to himself while simultaneously greeting random people. It was a testament of Kristoff's distraction, because he didn't even stop to usher the snowman into a quiet reserve.

Anna was refreshed. Her hair was braided and she wore a green and yellow winter dress, one with long, warm sleeves. It looked comfortable, not beautiful, but her natural radiance was all the more powerful. Kristoff smiled, vaguely aware he probably looked like an idiot. Only when Olaf gasped and tugged on his pant-leg did Kristoff stop.

"Huh! What!" He looked around then down. Olaf was gaping, head tipped back and eyes wide. Kristoff cocked an eyebrow but eventually turned his regard. Likewise did his expression change. "Whoa!"

The throne room was entirely frosted over, ice sculptures and snowy patterns lining the walls. Kristoff stared in awe, admiring the icicles which hung from the ceiling and the snowflake impressions etched onto the icy floor. The hoary decorations were not the pinnacle of this winter majesty, however. Towering on either side of the throne plinth were two magnificent snowmen. They stood at ten feet each, buttons of perfect blue ice dotting their chests, their ice eyes glittering and their faces perfectly sculpted.

Olaf sniffled.

"Those have got be the fifth or sixth most beautifulest biggest snowmen I have ever ever seen."

"Yeah..." Kristoff unthinkingly replied, then shook his head and looked down at Olaf. "Wait. Who are the first five?"

A slam resounded before Olaf could reply. The whole room jingled, a ruffle of ice and snow rendered by the faint shake. Everyone but the monarchs jumped, startled, and looked back. The main doors were thrown open, a troop of six guards marshalling one former prince into the summons. Kristoff stepped aside to let them pass, Olaf slipping between his legs to hide behind a kneecap. Olaf peered out tentatively to look at Hans, quaking in fear. Kristoff crossed his arms and stood tall, glowering at the man as he did the day before. Yesterday, Hans could not be bothered to humour him. Intent on proving the commoner was still beneath him, he refused to acknowledge Kristoff at all.

Something must have changed because today he looked. It was a dark scowl, a disgusted once over and sneer before he turned away. Olaf yelped, a strangled sort of yodel as he ducked behind Kristoff again. Kristoff breathed in deeply, a measure of temperance. It did no good to lose his cool now. He would not let that slimy git draw any sort of reaction out of him. Most especially because it was not what Anna wanted.

Kristoff sufficed to glare and relish in every little kick delivered to that son of a bitch.

Hans was dropped to his knees, only he did not bow his head today. More impudence.

Anna stepped away from the throne, sharing one final glance with her sister. Elsa nodded and Anna smiled faintly, rejuvenated. She and Elsa had stayed up for hours the night before, turning the throne room into a winter wonderland. It seemed a superfluous effort but it meant the world to Anna. This was a place she felt safe. A world created by herself and her sister, guarded by their love and their manifested strength, here she felt at home. Here, Hans was the stranger. Here, Anna could be strong. More than that, Anna could _realize_ she was strong and act accordingly.

"I've had time to think about your punishment," Anna said, wasting no time. She felt strong, she felt healthy, she felt good... but she also knew her own heart. She did not fear Hans but she feared herself. She feared what she might say if she was given even a moment to think twice. She had to liberate every thought right now, and she had to be strong about it. "Hans Fuerst of the Southern Isles, I, Princess Anna of Arendelle, on this day hereby sentence you to a lifetime of servitude..." She stopped and thought twice. Oh god, why did she think twice? _No_! She assured herself. No second guessing. Not this time. She stammered but eventually freed her words before she could consider them again. "...here."

A soft murmur filled the hall. Hans did not even attempt to conceal his own reaction, his expression contorted to one of bemused revulsion.

Kristoff stepped forward, his brow furrowed.

"Anna," he muttered beneath his breath, wishing to be louder and boldly exlaim, _"what the hell are you doing?" _She looked his way even though it was not possible she heard him. All she did was nod.

Kristoff was alarmed, maybe more than Hans. Anna could easily read him, doubly so given he made no effort to obscure his thoughts. Kristoff just stood there, arms limp and expression changing from upset to worry to confusion and back. Anna nodded at him, helpless to explicate further at this time, and then looked down at Hans again.

"You—you—you will work in the palace prisons," she said. She crossed her arms and hoped she looked surer than she felt. "You will clean the cells and polish chains and acqueise to any request made by the prison warden or captain of the guard."

"You can't—" Hans began, chains rattling as he tried to forward a protesting hand.

"I can." Anna put her foot down, literally. It was a heavy stomp. "And I already have." She turned her nose up and hoped her haughty expression seemed effortless, because it certainly took a lot of effort to look effortless.

"If you want me dead or locked away then drop the pretence and just deliver the goddamned blow," Hans said, snarling. Though his impertinence was no doubt constant, his foul language must have struck a final nerve. Two guards approached and held him down, one grabbing his hair and forcing him to bow his head. Hans breathed out heavily through his nose, knowing if he threw a tantrum it would only end in humiliation. His dignity was sparse by now, but at least he could pretend it didn't bother him. He levelled his breathing, then turned his gaze up while his head was held down. "Your majesty," he sneered.

Anna breathed in deeply but fought to maintain a stoic face.

"I have made my proclamation," she said, and nodded curtly. "And it is effective from this point forward. Hans—_prisoner_—your summons is hereby terminated, and your presence dismissed to begin its sentence."

"This is pathetic, this is—" Hans spoke so fervently he spat, but a gag silenced him quickly enough. No sooner than that was he dragged back the way he came. He ceased fighting once more, still aware it only worsened his image. He simply glared at the princess as he was dragged away, their eyes locked until the door slammed closed and shut him out forever.

It was silent in the room for a while afterwards. Anna stood there, posture shifting. She fiddled with the end of a braid and gnawed on her lower lip, all the while staring at the closed door.

Kristoff watched her, partly relieved but greatly morose.

He was glad to realize the full sentence as he deeply misunderstood Anna's initial purpose. It wasn't that he distrusted her, or even that he thought her stupid. Far from it, really. Anna was clever, Anna was bright, and Anna was so smart, so eager, so willing to learn. But by god, was she ever naive. He granted it was only natural given her childhood; she was raised in an unbelievably sheltered environment. Bar a few uninterested servants, she was isolated with no companion but her mind. Her ignorance was through no fault of her own, but it made Kristoff no less wary. That sort of innocence was easy to manipulate, as thoroughly evidenced in this whole Hans debacle. Kristoff knew Anna wanted to do the right thing, and he knew she deliberated deftly. But she was kind and she was loving, and though he would never _seriously_ call that brilliant young woman a fool, he conceded that her loving heart had the potential to lead her astray.

When she sentenced Hans to working here, Kristoff thought she meant _here_. Right under their noses! He was horrified at the prospect, the very notion that asshole would be slinking around the palace, close enough to harm Anna and her sister...

But Kristoff should have trusted her. She was loving and she was kind, and she might have been naive, but she was smarter than anyone gave her credit for. She was often coddled and spoken down to, treated like a child though she was not. Even she seemed accustomed to this behaviour, maybe even blind to it. Kristoff saw and it made him uncomfortable, and yet he did the exact same thing. He underestimated her, doubted her, and he could not do that. He would not do that.

By every power in this world, if there was only going to be one person who ever treated her the way she deserved to be treated, then it would be him.

He had to trust her. If she fell flat on her face, which was her admitted wont, then he would pick her back up. But he had to let her try and he had to trust her, no matter how many mistakes she made, no matter how many times she fell over. He would be there when she stood, and he would help her find another way. But he would trust her. He would believe in her.

And all this made him thrice as miserable, because it forced him to draw upon the depths of which he cared for this girl – which was a whole lot more than he really cared to admit. And now she was standing away from him, looking lost and unsure. And there were a whole set of rules that told him how to behave right now. He had to obey them, because worsening his naturally poor reputation did no good in the long run. He didn't care about a lousy courtier's opinion, but his own affection towards Anna meant little if a castle gate stood between them. So he was frozen in place, utterly helpless but to stare at her while she mentally toiled.

He was so busy watching Anna, he didn't even notice Olaf's departure.

A sudden gasp flittered about the throne room. Kristoff turned his gaze down and saw Olaf bouncing up the steps to join Anna. Kristoff darted forward but it was too late. Olaf tugged on her skirt and she looked down.

"Hi," Olaf said, and smiled brightly at her. "That's a nice dress, Anna. You look nice in yellow. Like the _suuuun_." He gestured broadly, tracing an invisible sun with his tiny arms.

Anna smiled, inclining her head so her bangs swiped her forehead.

"Thank you, Olaf," she said. When she straightened, Kristoff saw she blushed. It was a faint rose across her freckled cheeks, but it made Kristoff smile dumbly. Anna was still unaccustomed to compliments, especially on her physical appearance. Their source was irrelevant, thus even the talking snowman could make her blush.

Anna lifted her gaze and saw Kristoff watching her, a little grin on his face. She was flooded with immediate warmth even though moments ago she was chilled to the bone. The ice of the prison hardened in her veins, surfacing memories only a few hours old. The chill of the winter palace became a burden then, but one look at Kristoff put everything into perspective. Like waking from a dream, she remembered herself. She hoped her expression was grateful.

Anna turned back to her sister and Elsa smiled at her. Her posture was prim, her expression proper, but the affection in her eyes was louder than anything else. Anyone who looked upon Elsa would see a queen. Anna saw her sister, well and truly. She almost flung herself at her, but she knew better than that at least. She released a breath and Elsa nodded, seeming to understand. Elsa stood so Anna stepped aside, allowing her to dismiss the court.

Elsa's words had scarcely left her mouth before Anna scurried away. Her foot caught the bottom of her dress and she almost tumbled down the steps, but a quick arm flail and she was safe.

Kristoff almost laughed. If they were alone, he probably would have. But he was distracted anyway, smiling at her changed disposition and admiring the flush in her cheeks. She barrelled into him not two seconds later, because even though she was his distraction, he somehow wasn't paying attention to actuality. She all but jumped on him, shaking his shoulders and seizing his forearm.

"Whoa!" He stumbled behind her as she tugged him along, physically powerful despite her size. Definitely not one to underestimate.

"Come on!" she whispered, as if discretion was necessary when all eyes followed them to the door.

Elsa watched Anna practically maul her friend. If she were a lesser woman then Elsa might have laughed. As it was, she shook her head and smiled faintly, gently averting her gaze. Upon dropping her glance, she realized Olaf still stood nearby.

He smiled at her.

"Hi," he said. "Can you make those snowmen talk?"

* * *

Though Arendelle was mostly impervious to the wiles of its supernatural monarch, there were occasions the queen littered patches of winter in otherwise sunny scopes. There was only one eternal sanctuary, however. It was Elsa's personal respite, sanctioned by her sister and decorated by Elsa. The palace gardens were vast and lush, with one corner now sealed in perpetual winter. Besides Elsa, a visiting Olaf sometimes played there, but it otherwise remained untouched.

So Kristoff wondered why Anna led them there now.

"Anna?" he asked, shivering when they neared it. Though a chill descended across Arendelle, given they approached the actual winter season, Kristoff was not dressed to brace a sudden storm. It was worth noting that although he was resolved to obey decorum, it met an internal concession. He dressed in his own clothes and he refused stiff, upper crust suits. He was still a working man, and he wished to stay that way. Though the pinnacle of the ice harvest would disembark soon, which meant leaving Anna for the waterway district up in the mountains.

The thought of which made him buckle down and acqueise to whatever crazy scheme she drew now.

"Just a bit further," Anna said. She laughed nervously, a poor attempt at nonchalance and she knew it. She grimaced but walked straight on, her back turned to Kristoff. She really didn't want to look at him. This endeavour was trying enough without _eye contact_! Anna had to tell him about the kiss with Hans and she had to tell him right now. She would not get nervous or distracted or start acting silly. She would be an adult about this. She would sit him down, explain what happened, and then move on.

But she had to do it fast, because her nausea worsened with each passing second.

It was understandable; she had yet to reveal this little detail to anyone. She confessed most of her exertion to Elsa, in her post-cry haze admitting she had gone to the prison tower. Elsa did not judge her but Anna could tell she was upset. For that reason, she thought it best not to mention anything else... namely her massive snog with the prisoner. But it weighed so heavily on her mind! Anna couldn't understand it at all. She had no idea why she did it, which wasn't an unusual feeling, but the fact the kiss felt... _good_! That was horrifying! It was wicked and sloppy and _ew_ his tongue. That man was demented. You just don't go around sticking your tongue in other people's mouths!

...and it certainly shouldn't be enjoyed!

She didn't tell Elsa, even though it burdened her consciousness. And honestly, Anna wasn't sure if Elsa could help anyway. Elsa knew a lot of things, but this? Romance never seemed to interest Elsa, so maybe she wasn't the best resource here.

But Kristoff...

"Rightio!" Anna exclaimed, drawing them into the heart of the winter garden. She sat on an icy bench and pat the spot next to her. Kristoff cocked an eyebrow but humoured her, plopping down onto the bench.

"Uh, right," he said, rubbing his hands together. He glanced around, ever appreciative for the beautiful energy of ice. There was a vivacity to Elsa's artwork, unmatched in any capacity. The snow settled in perfect formation, icicles swirling to impossible degrees, and this bench...

...this bench was really cold.

"You gonna tell me why we're out here?" Kristoff asked.

Anna sat cross-legged, nervously gnawing on the end of a braid. She had to tell Kristoff. She knew she had to tell him. She dragged him all the way out here to the one place she could guarantee their seclusion. Even her personal chambers were risky. The patrol did not often mind her, but their pacing was no doubt nerve-wracking. Not to mention it bothered Kristoff. And while annoying Kristoff brought her great joy most of the time, she didn't want to legitimately upset him.

And given this was particularly upsetting news, the least she could do was ease its deliverance by not trapping him someplace insecure.

"Right," Anna said, and spat out her braid. She coughed and sat a little straighter, folding her hands in her lap. "Kristoff—"

He burst out laughing.

"Excuse you, mister!" she exclaimed, expression indignant. "You want to share the joke?" She folded her arms, a sure-fire indication she was cross.

"You," Kristoff said like it was obvious. He gestured to her posture. "Anna, what are you doing? This isn't an international summons of political affairs. Relax."

Her shoulders did slacken, but with its dissipation so did her morale deflate. She groaned, doubling over and burying her face in her hands. She could imagine Kristoff, his face shaping in the black of her closed eyes. He probably furrowed his brow, not tightly knit, but a loose regard of confusion. He probably looked at her and then away. His hand brushed her back, faintly and briefly. He was hovering, unsure how to comfort her. Boys were stupid. Anna hated boys.

She peeked at Kristoff between her fingers, head turned slightly. He was staring at where his hand floated just above her. He looked terrified. She smiled and turned her face back into her hands.

She didn't hate boys. At least not Kristoff.

But he was still stupid. Stupid boys.

"Right," she said. She sat upright, tugging on both braids and emitting an ungodly groan.

"Whoa." Kristoff leaned back. "Did that sound come out of you?" Where did she even keep all that noise? She was an endless supply of ruckus yet she barely reached his shoulder.

Anna ignored his playful query. Did he not realize he made this even harder to confess? Stupid Kristoff being stupidly lovely. And stupid Hans for being stupidly stupid. And stupid her for—everything!

"Kristoff, I—I—" Maybe she should stand! That would surely help. Anna bounced to her feet and swivelled, crossing her arms. She rehearsed this in front of her bedroom mirror this morning. She could not remember a word of that trial. "Okay." She braced herself again. "Kristoff, I... I did something. And... and... and I think I should tell you about it."

It was silent for a moment. Eventually Kristoff scratched behind his ear, expression turning perplexed.

"Um, okay," he said. "Are you gonna tell me what that is? Soon maybe?"

"Maybe, yes," she said. She shifted, her feet planted further apart and her fists upon her hips. She hopped to alleviate to the tension in her abdomen but it did no good. She still felt ready to hurl. "Okay, um. It involved me. And another person."

Kristoff rubbed his shoulder, awkward.

"Anna," he said, his gentle tone contradictory to the sarcastic tip of his head. "You wanna maybe skip twenty questions and charades and just, you know, tell me what's up? This is weird. You're freaking me out."

She was freaking herself out, never mind him. But Anna turned away, taking another moment to collect herself. Maybe this wasn't a big deal. Maybe drawing it out was a good idea. Now she would turn around, confess her story, and he would be relieved it was so trivial. Yeah, that was it! This was totally en route to being resolved! All questions and guilty complexities would perish upon one simple utterance, melted like snow in the warm embrace of her reindeer king (which was his general title when she was unsure how to classify their relationship).

She breathed out and turned to him, broadly bearing determination. Kristoff sat with his arms crossed, attempts at civility foregone as a wholly sarcastic expression donned his face.

"I can't feel my butt," he said. "I'm pretty sure I'm now a permanent fixture so get used to me sitting on this bench."

"I kissed Hans."

"...right."

So her interjection was a little more spontaneous than she would have liked. At least she said it.

"Okay, no, but wait!" she cried, waving her hands haphazardly. "It was like this, all right? So I was freaking out in the dead of night when I got this dumb idea of visiting the tower. I was like yeah, time to face my fears and latch this bitch down!"

"Anna—"

"I don't know what means; I heard it in the kitchens once. But anyway, there I was, facing my fears, being super awesome and—_I even smacked him, Kristoff! _ Right on the cheek, pow!" She mimed a smack to her own face, not anticipating her braid would slap her eye. "Ow! Right, okay." She fixed herself then continued. "So we were there, arguing and talking and stuff, when suddenly—smoochville!"

"Smoochville?"

"Smoochville! I-I-I-I don't know why! And it was so gross, Kristoff! Super gross! He rammed his tongue into my mouth like he was looking for buried treasure or something. I mean he kinda licked my lip too and that was kinda cool but not—not cool like good, not like I like Hans! I don't like Hans! I like you! I _like_ like you, in fact. I would be just as happy if you licked my lip too! I mean, you shouldn't, because that's weird. It's weird, isn't it? Hans is super weird. Is it getting hot out here or is it just me?"

"It's just you."

"Right, okay." She tugged on the collar of her dress, breathing a little harder.

Kristoff sat there a moment more, staring at her, but he eventually stood. Once his height loomed over her, she cowered a bit. It was not out of fear. She knew Kristoff would never intentionally harm her. But her bravado had fled, riding the wings of every hurriedly confessed word. Now there was nothing to do but curl up, cry, and eat a lot of chocolate.

Kristoff already intended to reply thoughtfully, but when Anna suddenly wrapped herself up in her own embrace, all lingering resentment died. She was tired, anyone could see. She was tired of being sad and confused, tired of being alone with her thoughts, and tired of being hurt by the people she loved.

"Anna," he said, leaving it there. He gathered her up in his arms, hand grasping the back of her head and drawing it towards his chest. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her head under his chin. "Anna," he said, speaking into her hair. "You are, without a doubt, the craziest girl I have ever met."

She punched him under the arm and shoved her face into his shoulder.

"Yeah, but you don't meet a lot of girls," she muttered.

He chuckled, smoothing a hand down her hair then tugging on a braid.

"Come on, princess," he said, drawing her away. "It's freezing out here. And we left Olaf inside which—"

"Don't you even want to talk about it?" Anna exclaimed, amazed he was receiving this so well.

He still held her shoulders, keeping her far enough to meet her gaze while they spoke.

"Uh, I don't know," he said. "Do you? Or something?" Anna did love her _feeling sessions_. Kristoff, on the other hand, was not overtly emotional. For all his many musings, it took a funny voice and reindeer to utter even half of them. He had a feeling Anna wanted a bit more where this was concerned, but what was he supposed to say? Knowing her, this whole conversation already happened with Elsa anyway. Besides, it wasn't Kristoff's place to tell her where to go or what to do. He thought going to the tower was a dumb idea, but given her open remorse he figured Anna knew that. This was a matter of falling and getting back up. So she made a mistake! Now they were here, together, and he could give her a hand finding her way. Going to the tower was dumb, yes. Kissing Hans was... weird... but she seemed mostly repulsed by it. Well, she also expressed some kind of attraction to the physicality itself, but that was another matter. It was less about Hans so much as kissing in general. In the end, this all boiled down to one thing: Anna was Anna. She was impulsive and courageous, a dangerous combination if applied incorrectly. She was a cliff-jumping, prince-marrying, criminal-smooching ball of red hair and charisma.

But Kristoff wouldn't want her to be anyone else.

"I don't know," she replied, biting her lower lip. "I just... I thought you'd be upset or something." Anna was so confused. Kristoff seemed completely at ease! She didn't expect him to burn down Arendelle, consumed with a jealous rage, but she expected _something_. She had kissed Hans! On the mouth! With his tongue! Why was Kristoff totally okay with that? Maybe she needed to be clearer. "Kristoff," she said, laying both hands on his chest. She fiddled with the material of his shirt then carefully met his gaze. "I _kissed_ Hans."

He blinked.

"Yeah..." he said, watching her quizzically. "I think I understood that much."

"And you don't care?!" she exclaimed, clutching the front of his shirt.

"Whoa, wrinkles, watch it," he said, clasping her wrists and lifting her off. "Do you know how long it took me to make this shirt even remotely presentable by Sir Stanley standards?" Sir Stanley was the etiquette teacher, but he really didn't have a place in this conversation.

"Stop changing the topic!" Anna said, flicking his ear.

"Ow! Hey!"

"Why aren't you mad?"

"Do you _want_ me to be mad?" Kristoff returned, rubbing his ear.

"Yes!" she declared. "Don't you even want to tell me I'm stupid and then lecture me on visiting people in prison or something?"

"Why would I call you stupid?" he asked, crossing his arms. "Have I ever called you stupid?"

"It is... implicit... in your language," she slowly proclaimed, crossing her own arms.

"No," he said, shaking his head. He leaned in towards her, expression pointed. "You make questionable choices sometimes, but you aren't stupid. You made a mistake, let's just leave it at that! I don't even—"

"Don't even what?" She followed after him when he retreated.

"Get it!" he cried, throwing his hands up. "Why would you _want_ me to be mad at you?" He parted a sheet of ice and crossed through, shaking his head. "I'll never understand—whoa!" Anna followed him and launched herself onto his back. He forcibly halted, reaching behind himself to grab at her. She meanwhile climbed up his backside, scrambling to settle with her legs around his chest and arms around his head. "Anna," he sputtered, her arm over his mouth. "I'm not a tree, you know."

"Carry me back to the palace. I'm mad at you."

"You're mad at _me_?!"

"Giddy-up!" She drummed on his head. He exhaled through his nose, rolling his eyes. Still he acquiesced, holding her beneath her knees and trudging onward. She folded her hands atop of his head and rested her chin there. "If I wasn't mad at you, I'd tell you the view was nice up here."

"If you weren't insane, I'd congratulate you."

She tugged on a lock of hair, yanking his head back. Surprised, he almost tipped over completely. After taking a few shaky steps back, Kristoff righted himself.

"Anna!"

"You're so clumsy," she said, then began to play with his hair. They marched along in silence, Kristoff frowning at the open air. After a while Anna's soft ministrations slowed, and she fiddled with a bit of blonde hair between her fingers.

"Something wrong?" he asked, bitterly.

"No," she murmured. "But I like your hair."

She sounded less aggravated, though she was probably still mad at him. But if she wasn't expressing that frustration, he didn't know how to behave. So he walked along, feeling awkward.

"Uh, thanks," he said, and turned his head slightly. "You doing okay back there?"

She draped her arms over his shoulders, leaning down and resting her temple against his.

"Hans has red hair," she said, voice caught between a soft dream and sad reality. "It's stiffer than yours. But his hair smells nice, like flowers and lye. Yours smells like the moon."

"The moon?" he asked, smiling in spite of himself. "How could my hair smell like the moon?"

"I dunno," Anna said, ruffling his hair. "It just kinda does, I guess. That sort of evening winter smell, like metal and salt but cold. I like it."

"Well, I'm glad you like my moon hair."

"No teasing," she said and tugged on his hair again. He lurched to the side, clutching her knees so he wouldn't drop her.

"Anna, you're going to knock us over."

"No, I won't. You're a worry walrus." She sat straight and started fluffing his hair, pulling apart strands and blowing on them. The castle was quick upon them and when they approached a set of doors, Kristoff suddenly turned and led them to the courtyard. "Where are we going?" she asked, sliding off his back when he stopped by an open ledge. She stepped onto it, leaning against the frame while he climbed over a similar formation into the yard.

"We're going to have a _feeling session_ so you don't walk around all day telling people I'm a wally-doofus again."

"You were being a wally-doofus that day," she said, planting her hands on his shoulders when he reached up for her. He grabbed her by the waist and swung her down, placing her on her feet beside him.

"After you," he said, gesturing to the court. She picked up the ends of her skirt and waltzed off, head held high. He watched her go, shaking his head before trailing after her.

Anna sat down on a stone bench, considerably warmer than their last site. She took a dramatically dainty seat and crossed one leg over the other, folding her arms across her chest. She kept her nose high and eyes closed, the epitome of superficial haughtiness. Kristoff sat beside her, fighting the sarcastic forces within.

"This is usually your thing so, uh, you go first," Kristoff said.

Anna said nothing.

"Right, fine. You want me to speak?" he asked. Still no reply. He groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Fine, Anna. You want me to be upset: I'm upset then. You shouldn't have gone to that tower and you shouldn't have kissed him. I'm upset you kissed him. Because kissing is the absolute height of human existence and now you've desecrated our entire future. I guess you'll have to move to Peru and farm alpacas."

She flicked his ear.

"Ow! Stop that!"

"Sarcasm not required," she said, and drew her legs up to sit cross-legged. "And that's not the point, it's just—I only—"

"What?" he asked, distracted with pinching his ear.

"Kristoff, I _liked_ it!" she cried, throwing her arms open. He leaned back, one second away from a split lip. "What does that say about me? About you!"

"About me?"

"About us! What if... what if I'm..." She couldn't say it; the thought was revolting. She suddenly felt like hurling again.

"You don't think you're still in love with him?" Kristoff asked, attention garnered now.

"No!" she cried, sounding certain. Her expression then faltered. "Maybe? I don't know!"

"Anna, he tried to kill you!"

"I know!"

"How could you love him?"

"I don't!" She grabbed her braids and tugged, pulling them taut. "But, ugh, I did once! He has red hair like me!" Somehow that was the most desperate exclamation so far. "Just like me! _He was just like me!_ And he has beautiful eyes. And his voice is like velvet and silk at the same time. And his skin is so soft. And he has these great shoulders that just taper down to this waist—and his butt! I don't even know what I'd do with that butt but I like it anyway."

Kristoff felt awkward before, but not like this. Now he felt so awkward, it was like he _became_ awkward. He and awkward were one entity. Nevermore would people give mention to awkward situations. They were just Kristoff situations, and they were the pinnacle of awkwardness.

"Right, okay." He cleared his throat. "Um, Anna—"

"And his lips! He was just standing there, breathing all hard, with his hair in his face. And his breath was breaking the cold air and my eyes found his mouth and wow. Wow. Wow!"

"Anna." Kristoff shook his head, wondering if it would be childish to cover his ears. "I don't need the details."

"I should have grabbed his butt," Anna said. "It was a great butt. It is a great butt."

"Okay, we need to stop talking about Hans's butt right now," he said quickly, putting his foot down. Anna looked at him, surprised like she had forgotten he was there. "Right," he said and looked away from her. He could feel an embarrassed heat in his neck and he wasn't sure how to continue. "Anna, that's just... if Hans walked over here right now, what would you do?"

"I'd punch him in the mouth."

"Okay, I think it's safe to say you don't love him."

"No," she said softly, and she knew it was true. Hans drove her to the brink of insanity, but not for the perilous wanderings of her heart. He was manipulative and cruel and she could never love him. But what other word was there? There was an inexorable pull between them and she could not refute it. Though she had no desire to relive it – she was fairly certain – she could still feel the tingle on her lips and warmth in her belly. She had not wanted to kiss Hans. She never wanted to kiss Hans again. But the process of kissing Hans had been incredible.

Anna was raised a particular way. She knew about romance and true love and kisses. True love equalled the desire to kiss, and if not true love then at least affection of _some_ nature. So if she did not love Hans even a little bit, then why was she so unbelievably drawn to him?

"Anna, you're just..." Kristoff rubbed the back of his neck, hardly believing he was having this conversation with his girlfriend. "You're probably just in lust. You—"

"Whoa, wait, what!" She waved her hands, turning to face him squarely. "I'm in what?"

"In lust," Kristoff said, dropping his hand from his neck. He furrowed his brow. "You know what means, don't you?"

"Of course I know what it means!" Anna exclaimed, then recoiled. "Sort of, at least."

"Right," Kristoff said, facing her as well. "You tell me what you think it means." Because that was probably easier than him explaining.

"It's one of the seven deadly sins."

"Oh boy."

"What?"

"Nothing. What about lust itself, though?"

"It's...um... bad." Which made sense. Kissing Hans was bad and made her feel bad, so of course this was the answer! She started to feel a bit better, even though Kristoff seemed a little worn. She sat straight, contemplative. "So lust is like evil love. I'm in evil love with Hans. Which means I can like his butt, but I don't want to marry him and cuddle."

"That's... no. That's not what that means. At all." Kristoff struggled to find words for a moment, then smacked both hands to his face and turned forward. "Okay," he said, determined. Anna faced him even though he turned aside. She felt like something big was brewing. She wished she had a pen to write down his lesson. "Lust is not evil love," he said.

"It's not?" she asked. "Then what do you call non-love that makes you want to kiss bad people?"

"It's not... you don't want to kiss bad people, Anna. You want to kiss Hans who, yeah, is a bad person, but it's not... you don't want to kiss him really. It's just... the physical...ness. Of it."

The fact she only expressed appreciation for that physicality was what kept Kristoff in check from the start. She was completely disgusted with Hans so Kristoff did not worry. Her prattling about Hans's finer physical aspects was a bit jarring, but even then, he knew what she meant. He knew why Anna was confused. She liked the kiss but not the man. But this entire situation was strange to piece together, because if Anna was so fond of one but not the other then how come—

Everything dawned on him at once. One look at Anna's bemused face confirmed his suspicions.

Now, Kristoff did not know _everything_ about Anna. That was the point of taking it slow; he would learn about her and she would learn about him. They had secrets to share, stories to discover, and these moments would come to pass in due time. That being said, there were certain experiences which laced people together, a bond unlike mortal craft. Their lives were intertwined, wound by the heavens' ridiculous scheming. Evil princes? Snow queens? Talking snowmen? The travail was ceaseless. Now here they were, shaping some semblance of a life and slowly figuring things out. They didn't know everything, but they knew a lot. They knew things that the other person did not often share.

And he knew about her childhood and her feelings – Anna really, really loved _feeling sessions _– and he knew about propriety and etiquette. Yet for some reason, he classified Anna's life by these categories. There was Anna as a child, alone, uncertain, sad. There was Anna now, vivacious and bright, a little bit mad. There was Princess Anna, who put on a show and wore nice gowns and tried to follow the rules when convenient. But for some reason he never reconciled these Annas into one. That isolated princess was sitting in front of him _now_, and she seemed wholly bemused by the prospect of tongues and kissing. And that seemed weird, because the Anna he knew would be all over that kind of thing, and apparently was. She never expressed an interest before, but he figured she needed some time after her last romantic catastrophe. But said romantic catastrophe was blowing a new storm for that very same reason, and Kristoff suddenly wondered if Anna's disinterest was not _actual_ disinterest. It never occurred to him that she simply... didn't know? She was as naive as she was impulsive, but could her first encounter with anything beyond fairy tales was a random french kiss with some guy in a prison tower?

Was that possible?

Decorum had its code, of course. Kristoff wasn't even supposed to be sitting next to her, never mind the tongue thing. But he had experiences outside the palace – experiences he would rather not divulge. Even Elsa, for her own isolation and solitude, seemed weathered by life. She was reared differently, being the oldest. Her parents treated her differently. Everyone treated her differently. Anna often expressed those feelings with great solemnity. The second sister, she slipped through the cracks.

And that made a lot of painful sense.

It suddenly occurred to him that although his experiences were limited to one foolish affair in his teen years, he was suddenly the worldly one. She probably knew the basics of everything. Kisses were delicate things. Kisses equalled true love. True love equalled man and wife. Man and wife equalled sex. Sex equalled babies. Babies equalled families. And they all lived happily ever after.

She wasn't innocent beyond human belief...

...but she was missing a few important details, to say the very least.

"Oh god." He could feel the sweat pooling under his hairline. "Anna, you..." _Really need to talk about this with someone else._ "Elsa!" He stood quickly, rolling up his sleeve. Was it getting hot or was it just him? Probably just him. "You should probably have this conversation with Elsa," he said, turning in a circle like he was lost. He eventually decided his way and began to walk, unthinking.

Confused, Anna jumped off the bench and followed him.

"Kristoff!" she cried. "Where are you going? I'm talking with _you_ about it! Why do I need to go to Elsa?"

"You just... probably should," he said.

"But I was only just starting to get it," Anna replied, dancing around him when he tried to turn away. He jumped, finding her on his opposite side.

"Anna, let me go," he said. She ran in front of him, sequestering him like a sheep dog its herd.

"No, just talk to me! What's wrong? Did I say something bad? Did I do something wrong?"

"You did nothing wrong, I promise," he said, gently taking her shoulders and moving her aside. "This just... this isn't appropriate conversation for... us. Right now."

He wondered why her etiquette teacher never had this conversation, then realized that was a stupid question. She would have been told it was inappropriate and to never bring it up. He should not have brought it up. It should have been obvious that a friendless princess would only know about sex and desire insofar as it produced babies. Of course she was confused by her kiss with Hans. Of course she never wanted to do anything but cuddle and share small kisses with Kristoff.

"Appropriate?" Anna asked. She seemed to piece a few things together. "Wait, is this... is this about..." Her voice dropped low and she looked around, careful and sly. After a moment, she made an incredibly crude gesture.

_At least she knows it's sex related_, he thought, then quickly grabbed her hands and lowered them.

"Anna!" he hissed. "Don't do that out here." He looked around for himself, thankful the courtyard was deserted. "Where did you even learn that?"

"It was in a book," she said. "I know about sex, Kristoff. Thank you very much."

"Yeah, I know you do, that isn't the problem," he said. He made another attempt to step around her. Anticipating her pursuit, he leapt aside and bolted, hurrying back to the main hall.

"Then what is the problem?" she cried, running after him. She caught up pretty quickly, latching onto the back of his shirt. She tried to plant her feet but simply wound up being dragged along. Sliding across the floor, she followed him back inside.

"It's not a problem, Anna," Kristoff said, shrugging his shoulders. She let go of his shirt, hurrying up to stand alongside him. He was certain his face was flaming red. "It's just... there's a lot you don't know. You've probably been misinformed."

"You think I'm stupid."

"I don't think that at all," he said, frowning at her. "Ignorant, maybe, but that's not your fault."

"You can talk to me," she said, grabbing him by the arm and pushing. He stumbled backwards, falling against the wall. "Oops, sorry," she giggled nervously, watching him rub his head. She stood straight quickly, crossing her arms. "I mean—no. Tell me. Speak. Now."

"Anna—"

"Is this all connected? You think I want to make babies with Hans or something?"

"I don't—no, that is not what I think—"

"Because it was just a kiss. If you know something then why won't you tell me?" She already felt so foolish, but for some reason Anna couldn't stop. Once her impulsive nature seized her, there was no retraction. Not until her subconscious was satisfied. Needless to say, it wasn't. She was still confused. Hans's kiss left her flustered, and suddenly Kristoff was talking about sex. Sex had nothing to do with love and kisses! Well, sometimes the husband and wife were lucky enough to be in love, but that was not always the case. She received a lecture on it when she was a bit younger. Anna was a princess, after all. She would one day marry and make lots of royal babies, so she needed to know how it all worked. But that was just mechanics! Once she was married, her husband would enact his marital right and every once in a while they would do something that was apparently inappropriate to ask about at the breakfast table (which she learned the hard way at age fourteen). It was also inappropriate subject material for reading, not that she wanted to read about baby-making anyway. Who would tucker through something so boring? There was nothing about any of that which made her heart skip and butterflies flutter. Hans... Hans was just weird, wasn't he? Attacking her with his tongue was weird, wasn't it? She was strange for liking it, wasn't she?

The look on Kristoff's face told her, no. She was wrong. She was very, very wrong about something and she really wanted to know what.

"Well!" She huffed, still demanding an answer. God, she felt like such an idiot. Everyone made her feel like a child! She was good for nothing, unlike Elsa who was beautiful and smart and powerful. Anna was just the dumb baby sister who didn't know anything. She didn't even know anything about kisses, and she once thought herself an expert on those. But it was just another thing she didn't know. It was just another thing no one wanted to talk to her about. It was just another thing to isolate her.

"Anna, look," Kristoff said, gesturing she calm down. "Just take a deep breath, relax, and later you can talk to Elsa—"

"I don't want to talk to Elsa!" she cried, jabbing her finger in the middle of his chest. "I want. To talk. To you!" She punctuated her exclamations with rhythmic stabs of her forefinger. When Kristoff opened his mouth and stepped forward, she pushed him flat into the wall again. "Why can't you just tell me?! Why doesn't anybody tell me anything?!"

Maybe it was desperation. Maybe it was her final exclamation, reminding him of his promise. If no one else treated her with the respect she deserved, then he would. She was incredible, the greatest thing to happen to him in a long time, and she deserved so much better.

Either way, he took hold of her arms. She looked about ready to turn away, but she grudgingly met his engagement. He turned them around, and while she clung to indignation, it melted away when he slanted his mouth across hers and kissed her.

And _that_ was a kiss.

Her eyes flew open, hands frozen in mid-air. He held her wrists loosely, lips moving a little more deftly than wont. After a moment, her eyes fluttered closed, her fingers lacing with his as he angled the kiss differently. A surprised little noise left the back of her throat, and it was this moment she usually pulled back to breathe. Even with Hans, she came to realization now. But there was nothing to realize here. She quickly found the breathlessness was a wonderful sensation unto itself. Even when granted the briefest respite, she scarcely caught her breath before his mouth was on hers again. Her head hit the wall, gently but sure, their folded hands pressing back alongside her hips. She thought to try... and maybe it was ridiculous... because Hans... but she thought...

Anna was stiff beneath him, loosening gradually as the kiss progressed. He was hardly a renowned lover himself, but even he could recognize the inexperience of her return. But there was something so raw and unabashedly Anna about it. Then when she swiped her tongue across his bottom lip, pressing up against him, with a small groan he fell undone. Cupping her face in a hand, he kissed her harder, meeting her breathless discoveries with his own. She clutched his sides and he couldn't care less for his shirt's ruination, his other hand settling on the small of her back and holding her steady. He did try to remember himself, to think rationally; anyone could walk by at any given moment. But she was so pliant and eager beneath him, and when she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down, he decided he didn't care about anything else. Lips tracing the curve of her jaw and slope of her neck, he all but drove a bruising mark onto her flesh. His hand kneaded her side and she gasped and wriggled, keen to find the next best thing.

"Kristoff," she murmured, carding her fingers through his hair. _Where did he even learn this_, she wondered. She hoped it wasn't with the reindeer.

"Anna," he mumbled back, a bit hazy. She was trying to climb into his arms, swinging her arms around his neck and pulling herself up. He caught her mid-climb, one arm stabling her while the other braced the wall. _ This is not a good idea, _a little voice told him. Making out with the princess was one thing. Pinning her to the wall with her legs around his waist painted an entirely different image. Either way, he was pretty sure the castle guard would beat him into the ground for despoiling the princess's virtue. They were just jealous it wasn't them.

And that suddenly unlocked a desirous element of his heart. What was Kristoff anyway? Some orphaned ice harvester raised by creatures who most people thought fiction. She was a princess and had her choice of anyone, yet she was here trusting _him_ with everything. Of all the princes and soldiers, she wanted the Ice Master and Deliverer (which still wasn't a thing, by the way).

He held her tighter when he should have slackened, but she certainly didn't complain. She returned her mouth to his, kiss languid and slow, her lips still tender from the hunger of their first kiss. He eventually grabbed hold of her leg, and as tempting as it was to hitch it around his waist was, he lowered her to the ground. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him low, continuing to kiss him and whining in protest as he pulled away.

"Anna—" She interrupted him with another kiss. He took her face in his hands and pulled her away. "Anna, we're in the downstairs corridor," he said.

"Yeah," she replied, ignoring his words and attaching herself to his mouth again. He laughed into the kiss, separating again.

"Bad idea, fiestypants," he said.

"You don't want to kiss me?" she asked, batting her eyelashes up at him. He groaned, her lips pinkened and eyes bright. And she probably knew exactly what she was doing because when Anna wanted something, she was relentless.

"You have no idea how much I want to kiss you," he said. Anna smiled, a tremor inching its way up her backside at the low rumble of his voice. She ran her hands up his shoulders, twirling a bit of his hair around her finger. He wound his arms about her waist, holding her close and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Just not here. Not now," he said.

"Tonight," she said, squeezing his shoulders.

It was enough to simply _say it_ in order to harden him that last bit. Which also definitely meant he could do nothing about it because that was bad, dangerous territory.

Bad, dangerous territory...

She was kissing him again, and he was foolish enough to let her. She turned them around and pressed him into the wall, giggling as she pulled him down by his hair and licked his bottom lip.

"Anna—"

"Tonight."

"Tonight is not—"

"But we need to keep talking!" she said, her happy glow from earlier restored a tenfold. "I have a lot of questions! You need to answer them!"

He would happily answer anyth—_but no!_ No! What was he doing?

"Anna, we need to talk about this—"

"Yes, we do." She pecked him one last time on the lips. "We have lots of talking to do. Tonight! Tonight, tonight!" She turned and ran, leaving him standing there, flushed, turned on, and totally confused about the last ten seconds.

"Wait, Anna—?"

"I'll see you tonight!" she called from halfway down the hall. "I have something I need to do!"

She made a bee-line for the library.

Needless to say, Anna had a lot more research to do.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Hey, folks! Firstly, let me apologize for the delayed update. I hope to update once a week but real life happens sometimes. I had a family emergency but things have since settled. Sorry to keep you waiting, especially since I returned to find such wonderful reviews! I appreciate them all so much and I hope I will continue to hear from you. I also hope you enjoy the new chapter!

**THREE**

"Anna."

Anna's heart leapt, thundering past the confines of her chest.

"Elsa! You scared me!" She put her book down and unfurled, having nestled herself in a library window seat. The floor was deserted save for her and one lone guard manning the door, hence Elsa's sudden appearance nearly launching her into cardiac arrest. "What are you doing here?" Anna asked. She had considered grabbing what books she needed and then retreating to her room or parlour, but after deciding she wanted to be alone, Anna opted to stay in the library. She figured no one would look for her here. She had no idea how Elsa always managed to guess.

"Better question, what are _you_ doing here?" Elsa asked, reaching for Anna's book. Anna snatched it quickly and held it tight against her chest.

"Just, you know, reading," she laughed uneasily.

Elsa stared at her, expression sardonic.

"Okay..." Anna lowered the book. "I'm, uh..."

"Do you know who just approached me after a morning council?" Elsa asked, folding her arms quite delicately considering the menacing nature of the stance.

"Ummmm... Olaf?" Anna tried.

"Sir Stanley."

Oh. That was never good.

"I see," Anna replied, shoving a braid in her mouth and gnawing on the end. "What did he want?" she asked through a mouth full of hair.

"Anna." Elsa leaned down, pulling Anna's hair out of her mouth and then gently taking her face in her hands. "If you want to make out with your boyfriend, take it somewhere no one, least of all our easily disturbed etiquette teacher and public relations administrator, can see you. He was almost in tears describing the depravity of my poor sister's circumstance. He wants me to banish Kristoff to the mountains."

"What did you say?"

"I told him to stuff it and get out of my way."

"No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't. But I did tell him I would talk to you." She stood straight again, releasing Anna. "So consider this a conversation about it."

"As opposed to what?" Anna asked, lifting a confused eyebrow.

"I don't know," Elsa flapped her hands, waving the discussion away. "Just... as your queen, I am telling you to stop this indecent behaviour and learn what decorum a lady ought to keep." Anna frowned at these sudden words. Elsa faced the other way, but cleared her throat and looked back at her sister. "But, as your sister, I will tell you there are no books here that will give you what you're looking for. They're all medical and scientific. Try checking the gardening section. There should be a secret stash of books Sir Stanley doesn't know about. " Anna smiled and fought back a giggle. Elsa did the same, but after a moment regarded Anna with deeper gravity. "And Anna, please promise to tread carefully. I know it's not exactly your favourite thing in the world, but try, you know, pausing."

Anna looked down and idly ran her hand across the book's spine.

"He's not like Hans," she murmured.

Elsa watched her sister sadly, then nodded and folded her hands.

"I know, Anna," Elsa said. "And I like Kristoff, I do. I can see he legitimately cares about you. He hasn't given me reason to doubt him, not like Hans ever did, but all the same..." Folded hands turned to wrung hands. When Anna realized her sister was just as uncomfortable, she looked up to meet her gaze. "I just don't want to see you get hurt again."

Anna smiled softly, but beneath it felt concern. Though Elsa's suffering became clear thanks to recent events, she continually downplayed every aspect of it. When the subject arose, she always turned it back towards Anna. Anna, Anna, Anna. Even while they fought to repair their relationship, and while Elsa was an undoubted shoulder to cry on, she never cried herself. Anna still never saw beneath that meticulous shield. She knew what was there, she knew why it was there, but Elsa was still so uncomfortable with drawing someone into her thoughts. Whenever she did, she seemed to instantly regret it. As a result, Anna no longer pushed her, but she still worried when Elsa mentioned Anna's hurt but never bat an eye towards her own.

But by now, Anna knew good moments from bad moments. She didn't open this moment, not right now. She just continued to smile and nod.

"I know, Elsa," she said. "Thank you."

Elsa nodded meekly, turning away.

"And Elsa," Anna called after her. Elsa looked over her shoulder and Anna smiled a little brighter. "I love you."

Elsa smiled too, though she seemed a little embarrassed. Still, it was there, and she followed gently with, "I love you too."

Anna smiled at her until she left, at which time she leapt from her seat and sprinted towards the gardening section.

* * *

Elsa was not a conversationalist, but she dawned a character when the situation demanded it. Given she was reigning queen, that situation was often and came at a price – namely her mental wellbeing. Though the loquacious, poised, social princess was a familiar role, it was never her. She listened, she smiled, and with a select few she could demonstrate her inner personality a little bit more. But other than that, she was still an anxious creature. Just because everyone knew about her powers didn't mean the old consequences fled. Social situations were still incredibly daunting, and even though she could gracefully weave her way through any discussion, face-to-face conversations were still nightmares.

But this was a conversation worth having, so she marched straight to the palace stables.

_You're the queen, _she reminded herself. _And you could turn the stables to solid ice if you wanted to. _ For some inexplicable reason, her pep talks never helped.

Kristoff was at the stables, as she anticipated. When on palace grounds sans Anna, Kristoff was usually found hanging around the stables and chatting with his next closest friend – Sven. Elsa didn't judge the reindeer thing. They all had their shtick. And it meant Kristoff was incredibly easy to track down. If he wasn't with Sven, then he was hanging around the staff in some vaguely isolated part of the castle. Compiling his habits, Elsa decided Kristoff was a strange blend of herself and Anna. A bit of a loner, yet fairly vocal in his admissions, he was the best and worst of them. Elsa could read him, which she liked. Hans's perfection startled her from the very beginning. Though she wanted to believe in irrevocable goodness, it was just too much. Kristoff was flawed, but in the right ways. She would no sooner let a scallywag near her sister than she would prince charming. But Kristoff... she could like Kristoff.

Not that he could know that. He had to work for it, or at least think he was working for it. God help the man courting her sister, because the snow queen was not here for games.

"Kristoff Bjorgman," she called, crossing a muddy patch of grass. Ice formed beneath her feet to protect her from the filth. Kristoff, who was leaning on a stable door, launched back when he heard Elsa's voice. He stumbled in his withdraw, one hand clutching his open vest and the other in his hair.

"Elsa! Majesty! Queen! Ah—" He dropped in genuflection, head bowed, knee in the mud. It made a _squish_ sound as he landed, but he ignored it. "What can I—that is—why do you—I mean—what do you want?"

Elsa cocked an eyebrow and Kristoff stared at the mud, brow furrowed.

_What do you want?_ He asked himself. _That's nice. Get sarcastic with the queen. _

"I mean—" He lifted his head to try again but Elsa raised a hand for silence. She was satisfied with introductions, to say the least.

"You can stand," she said. He acquiesced, slapping mud off his knee as he rose. "I... thought I would find you here," she spoke as conversationally as possible. She did want to ease him into the dialogue, seeing as she was about to slap him with a potentially embarrassing directive. Unfortunately, she needed someone to ease her into easing him, and neither were particularly at ease though they both pretended they were. It was stressful, overall. She wanted chocolate.

"Uh, yeah," Kristoff said, rubbing the back of his neck. He smeared a bit of mud there and scowled, looking at his hand. "I keep my reindeer here." He wiped his hand on his shirt, realized what he was doing, and quickly threw his hands behind his back. "Right. What can I, er, help you with?"

"It's about Anna."

His posture changed almost immediately, fists balling and expression moving to concern.

"Is she all right?" he asked. It was so sudden but so genuine, and Elsa almost wanted to say no just to see what he would do. But she wasn't keen on dealing with the clean-up, so she didn't.

"She's fine," Elsa said, stepping towards him. "And I want to keep it that way."

Kristoff stared at her for a moment. The queen had never spoken to him in private before. At the very least, Anna was always there. Even then, their moments as a trio were scarce. If it wasn't Olaf bouncing around – which reminded Kristoff he was supposed to be looking for him – then it was a councilman, a statesperson, a servant, a speaker, and the list went on ceaselessly. Moreover, Queen Elsa seldom convened personal summons with anyone save for her sister. That she stood in front of Kristoff now was alarming, even more so considering the matter was apparently so urgent she needed to venture out to the stables to discuss it immediately.

Urgent matter. Kristoff. Anna.

Oh.

"Look, Elsa, if this is about—" Kristoff began, momentarily forgetting she was the queen but certainly not forgetting she was the magical big sister of his girlfriend. He threw his hands up in a plea of surrender, intent on somehow rectifying this whole thing. It wasn't exactly a misunderstanding, not if she was here to lecture him on public displays of affection. But if it was about anything more, then maybe he could convince her his intentions were honourable. Because they were! They really were! Even when Anna got all kissy...

_Really_!

"Calm down," Elsa said, raising her own hands. Kristoff's vague surrender turned a little more sure, palms flat as he cast a wary gaze downwards. He loved ice, ice was his life, and there was no one who appreciated Elsa's gift more than him. He just wasn't interested in being on the receiving end of it. "Look," Elsa said, taking his hands in hers and lowering them. "I'm not here to scare you, though I think it's implicit." Was that a joke? Was he supposed to laugh? He half-laughed, which sounded like a snort. Oh god, he wanted to die. Why did these things happen to him? "I just want to lay down some ground rules."

"Right," he said, hoping she would let go of his hands first. Thankfully, she did. "'kay... so...?"

"Firstly, I'd appreciate it if you kept this little conversation between us."

"What? Why?" His brow furrowed in genuine confusion. He didn't think the sisters kept anything from each other, least of all something as trivial as this. But then what did he know? He and Anna fought earlier because she was mad at him for not being mad at her. It was probably better if he just stopped trying to understand and just went along with whatever they said.

"It's not that big a deal," Elsa said, wringing her hands. "But I want my little sister to know she has choices and options, and I don't want her thinking I came here to direct you otherwise. Anna has been sheltered her whole life, kept from other people, left to her own devices, and none of it was by choice. And... and while I wouldn't say that was my... my _fault_... It was... a result of..." Elsa trailed off, looking at the ground. Kristoff regarded her with genuine sympathy, but straightened when Elsa looked up at him again. Shaking off sentiment, she gave him a pointed stare. "The bottom line is, I don't want to take away her agency. She has the right to do what she wants to do, and I've made sure she knows that. However..." She took a step towards Kristoff, and instinctively he stepped back. "I take it I don't need to have a birds and the bees talk with you?"

He shook his head.

"N-no, ma'am."

"And I take it I don't need to explain how it looks if a princess gets pregnant out of wedlock?"

"I understand."

"And I don't need to tell you what I'll do to you if you hurt my sister in anyway?"

"I have a good imagination."

"Me too." Elsa stepped back and crossed her arms, looking down her nose at him. An impressive feat considering he was taller. "Look, you don't need to cast her off and build yourself a hut in the mountains. If she wants to... _explore_..." Elsa gestured loosely with her hands. Kristoff felt a faint blush in his cheeks, and for some reason the little voice in his head told him a joke was the easiest way to soothe the tension.

"I take it you don't mean exploring the mountains?"

Okay, so it wasn't the easiest way to soothe the tension.

Elsa stared at him, expression so sarcastic it undid itself and was just plain annoyed. Kristoff half-laughed again, lamenting the snort.

"Carrying on," Elsa said, evidently unamused. "If she comes to you, then do what she says. You know, within the realms of your own personal wants. This isn't like some royal obligation, obviously. But anyway, what I'm telling you is two things. The first, if you're just here to screw around or get your jollies or whatever you kids are saying these days, then I'll turn you into Kristoff-flavoured ice cream. If you're here because you genuinely care about my sister and want to be with her, then take care of her. Treat her well—more than well. She deserves the very best, so you better be the very best. Satisfy her but don't do anything that will put her in a precarious circumstance. I'll leave discretion up to you, but be logical about it. And believe me, I know my sister. She'll want to throw everything at you at once, and, while I'm sure that's a tempting offer, please be decent. Be smart. But most importantly, keep her safe. Don't ever lie to her in these regards, don't ever just shuck her off and not explain why. If something is too difficult, then send her to me. I don't mind and I don't mean to over-burden you. But Kristoff Bjorgman, you've become someone very important to my sister. And while I'm pleased to see she's going slower this time, I still worry and want to look out for her. So. Do we have an understanding?"

That was a lot of information. Was it bad manners to ask for it in writing?

_Think, Kristoff, _that little voice told him. He breathed in deeply, computing everything Elsa just told him.

Care about Anna? He definitely did that. Keep her safe? Undoubtedly. Be the greatest lover between here and America but not too great and also ensure no one figure them out and if they do make sure they know it's only minimal and try to keep it minimal and if it's not minimal and holy shit, he was gonna die. Elsa was gonna turn him into ice cream.

"Yeah, I can do that," he said, voice cracking. He swallowed thickly. "No big deal, right?"

"Right," Elsa said, content. She smiled at him and he smiled back, though his expression was decidedly more worried. Elsa smiled softer, only a hint of amusement in her regard. "Kristoff," she said. He retreated from his thoughts and watched her. She snorted. "You're also my official ice master and deliverer. Don't forget."

He smiled a little more sincerely, the corner of his mouth crooking up. It seemed such a superfluous addition, but by mentioning his position she reminded Kristoff of one important fact: Elsa liked him. She thought he was good. She created a position just for him, a pretty useless role considering the queen could create ice at whim. But it was a title and it was all so he could be near Anna. Elsa did that for him. For them. She wanted Kristoff on the same page, and she didn't want him forgetting what might happen if he strayed. But she didn't think he was going to stray, and she knew he was here now. She believed in him and wanted this to work out. She wanted the best for her sister, and she thought Kristoff was the best. Well, she thought he was good. Good enough, at least! He could probably cope either way.

"I won't, your majesty," he said, inclining his head. "I'll do my best in every capacity."

"I don't doubt you will." She turned away, a faintly amused expression on her face. "By the way, my sister is currently investing in some unquestionably provocative reading material. If you want to measure up, you should probably do some research yourself."

"Wait, what?"

She laughed to herself, turning away.

"I'm sure you'll be fine, Mister Bjorgman!"

"She has expectations?! What is she reading? Where is she? Oh my god, are we actually talking about this? Me and the queen, I just—" He started rambling to himself, then turned and started speaking to the reindeer in embarrassed whispers. Elsa smiled, picking up the ends of her dress as she marched away.

Yeah. He would do.

* * *

Stupid Sir Stanley!

Maybe that was unfair. Anyone could have removed the books from the gardening section... and from the entire library, because Anna searched up and down and she found nothing inappropriate anywhere. Could this be a bigger tragedy? And maybe it wasn't Sir Stanley's fault. It could have been anyone.

No way. It was totally Sir Stanley's fault. What a knob.

Anna sat in her room, frowning at a stack of medical texts. They all contained the same old trite. Anna knew about the physical mechanics and she knew about marriage and she knew about babies but that wasn't what she wanted to learn. She wanted to know about the butterflies in her stomach and the heat beneath her skin. She wanted to understand yearning and she wanted to know what those simple mechanics achieved. While the scientific aspect of things could excite her creative mind, Anna was bored with recycled information. She wanted new, she wanted fresh. She didn't want something Sir Stanley could teach her. She also didn't want horror stories and terrifying warnings like she read in a couple books. And she _definitely_ didn't want to see any more diagrams of cows going at it!

"My lady?"

She was hanging upside down off her bed. The books were boring so she decided to see how long it would take her to get dizzy.

"Huh?" She flipped over, staring at her closed bedroom door.

"Supper will be served in ten, your highness," a page related from the opposite side. "A place is set, should you wish to accept it." She ate dinner in the main hall every night, so she had no idea why it was necessary to verify every single mealtime, but she sat up and nodded.

"Uh, yeah. I'll be right down."

"Very well, princess."

The retreat of footsteps sounded and Anna breathed out, blowing her bangs out of her eyes.

"I guess there's only one thing left to do," Anna said, addressing a porcelain doll on her vanity. Chatting with portraits and dolls only made her feel foolish now, but old habits were hard to quell and she was alone anyway. "You know what I mean, Dolly? _Hands on experience_." She giggled to herself, hanging upside down off her bed again. "I've never seen a naked man before," she mused. "Not in person, at least. Though I have seen _a lot_ of penises today." She cast a glance towards the medical books again. "I could almost rival Joan in the number of boy-things I saw." Naturally, she referred to Joan of Arc. A painting of the saint hung in the hall of portraits, a parlour mostly kept by Princess Anna through the years. She considered Joan an old friend. "But really, it isn't her fault the men at camp don't close their tents. Of course she's just going to walk in and see them, flapping about like no one's business!" Anna scratched her chin and pretended to contemplate something. "Maybe I _should_ talk to Joan about this. She does have a lot of men around her at any given moment. What's that?" She paused as if the doll interjected. After a moment, Anna nodded. "That's true. Armies and harems aren't totally interchangeable."

A snow drift seemingly imploded at that moment, a burst of white flying past her window. Elsa was still waiting downstairs to sup. A hungry Elsa was not a force to be reckoned with, so Anna grudgingly pushed herself off the bed. Humming idly, she brushed off her dress as she went to the door. She pulled it open and yelped in surprise when she found Kristoff standing there, his hand suspended in preparation to knock.

"Hi," he said, blinking at her.

"Hi," she returned, just as blankly. "What's up?"

He looked at his hand then lowered it.

"Nothing. Just thought I'd say good night."

She wasn't sure why things were so awkward, but his farewell quickly snapped the tension.

"What?" she exclaimed, eyebrows shooting up. "Good night? Why? Are you leaving? You can't leave yet! We haven't even eaten! Aren't you hungry? Of course, you are. You're always hungry. Come on." She grabbed his hand and tugged. He closed the door behind them, then followed patiently after her.

"I really should be going," Kristoff said, throwing a nervous smile to a wary guard. The soldier watched them pass, his gaze over Kristoff scrutinizing. Kristoff was grateful for the staff's attentiveness towards the princess, but he really wished people would stop expecting the worst of him.

"Something wrong?" Anna asked, slowing her pace. They walked side-by-side, hands swinging thanks to Anna.

"Nothing," Kristoff said, shaking his head. It was a white lie, but this was no urgent matter. Anna, however, was persistent as usual. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, smiling up at him.

"Come on," she said, nudging her shoulder into his arm. "Tell ol' Anna all about it."

He smiled in spite of himself, shaking his head before glancing forward.

"It's nothing," he said again. "Just the..." They passed another guard who gave Kristoff a similar once over. Kristoff frowned. "That."

"What?" Anna looked over her shoulder. The guard still watched them, but turned his head when Anna did. Anna, frowning herself, faced forward again. "The guards?" she asked, contemplative. She was clearly trying to piece this together, though his point was yet unclear.

"They look at me like I'm a bear about to devour you," Kristoff said. It sounded succinct in his head. It sounded dirty out loud, and a tense silence fell between them suddenly.

Anna thought she could ease the situation with a joke. She couldn't, of course, but she tried. These moments were a hero's true pitfalls.

"Well, they were right about one thing," she teased, then looked ahead. Her expression twisted with pain, barely concealed beneath a sunny facade. Kristoff didn't even bother with the smile. He just stared down the corridor with wide, thoughtful eyes.

"Right, I should really be going," he said after a beat, releasing her hand. "I just came to say good night."

"Please stay," Anna said, following him when he tried to leave the opposite way. She didn't reach for him this time, just bunched fistfuls of her skirt and swayed a little. "It's gonna be a rough night here, you know."

"Is it?" Kristoff asked, crossing his arms. A wave of sarcasm moved through him, and somehow it soothed him better than anything else. Sarcasm was an emotional deterrent. Like an iceberg for the soul. "Because as we speak a talking snowman is braiding flowers into my reindeer's fur and I'm going to be up all night listening to him talk about his day at the castle. What are _your_ big plans?"

Ooh, that was just like Kristoff to play the Olaf card! Anna frowned, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently.

"Helloooo," she droned, regarding him like he was stupid. "There's kind of, you know, a crazy murder guy not far from here who's been polishing irons all day and is probably really pissed and, yeah, I know I'm safe over here and nothing's really changed from the past few nights, but it's still gonna be rough!"

Unfortunately, Kristoff could not argue with that. He also conceded she was being genuine. Anna was frighteningly good at false ploys and luring him into staying, and because he usually wanted to stay he agreed pretty easily. She never forced him, though, and if she was teasing then she usually slackened after a while. This was sincere, at least for the most part. But he didn't have anything to say in reply, so he shrugged a little, crossed his arms, and kicked at the velvet carpeting.

"_Pissed_ isn't appropriate language for a princess," he said, playfully sneering his retort. Anna smiled and scurried up to him. He was forced to drop his arms and catch her, smiling and rolling his eyes while he pat the back of her head. She shoved her face against his chest and sighed happily, mumbling something into his shirt. "What's that?" he asked, guiding her head back.

"You smell funky like the stables," she said.

"Ah. Thanks."

* * *

"Ooh, what's this?" Olaf asked, kicking his tiny feet as a bowl was placed in front of him. Given Kristoff was now staying for supper, Olaf was naturally invited as well. Sven, unfortunately denied the gift of speech without Kristoff's aid, could not protest at being left in the stables. But he was laden with a bountiful collection of carrots, so he probably wouldn't complain anyway.

The dining hall was ridiculously large for just four people (well, three people and a snowperson) and the table looked silly because one tiny corner was decorated and the rest of it empty. But this was tradition and decorum, and they were nothing if not traditional and decorumful—or something like that.

Elsa sat at the head, naturally. Anna sat on her right, Kristoff her left. Olaf sat beside Kristoff, a stack of books on his chair because he couldn't see over the table otherwise. He didn't often eat at the castle, mostly because Kristoff usually opted out. There was too much pressure and definitely too much cutlery for one person to manage.

Kristoff could sort of understand the first course. It was a bowl of soup, so that meant he would use the spoon.

_Right, but which spoon? _he asked himself, gaze passing back and forth between two main ones. He eventually decided on the broader one. For a moment, he envied Olaf. No one expected manners from a snowman. Olaf simply held both spoons, staring at his piping hot bowl in wonder.

"Oooh, steam..." He scooped up a spoonful of soup, bringing it to his mouth and— "Ouch! Ouch, ouch ouuu—"

Anna gasped, dropping her spoon. It clanked against the side of her bowl. She threw her hands over her mouth while staring at Olaf, her poor eyes wide with worry. Kristoff felt a little bad for Olaf because his mouth was now completely deformed. Of course, Kristoff's only audible reaction was a groan because _really?! _ Why was the snowman trying to eat soup? And who gave him soup anyway?

"Hang on there, buddy," Elsa said. With a flick of her wrist, Olaf's mouth was restored to normalcy. He ceased flapping his hands by the former burn and instead breathed out in relief.

"Whew!" He wiped a hand over his brow. "That was a close one." He reached for his spoon and ladled up more soup.

"Olaf!" Kristoff cried, snatching the spoon out of his hand. "Cut it out!" Kristoff looked across the table at Anna. "Do you see what I live with?"

Anna shrugged dramatically, throwing her hands in the air and smiling dumbly. Elsa laughed, shaking her head.

"Here," she said. A simple gesture and Olaf's soup froze solid. Olaf gasped, grabbing the spoon which still sat in place. Holding it like a popsicle stick, he lifted his frozen soup in the air, smiling widely.

"I love it even more like this!" he exclaimed, licking the soup.

"Aw," Anna cooed, twirling her spoon around her bowl. Elsa smiled gently before returning to her meal. Kristoff just stared at the frozen soup, slightly repulsed.

"That's so gross," he said.

"No way!" Olaf exclaimed, thrusting the soupsicle in front of his face. "Try a bit, Kristoff!"

"That's all right," Kristoff replied, forcibly removing it from his vicinity. Anna kicked him under the table. "Ow! Okay, sorry. Thank you, Olaf. That was a very nice offer." Anna nodded in satisfaction. Kristoff watched her, gaze lidded and wary. She ignored him, slurping her soup. Elsa glanced back and forth between them, then decided to ignore everyone and reach for her wine.

It was around the final course Anna got bored. Hard to imagine why, Kristoff mused, especially given how interesting it was for Olaf to list his favourite types of pine cones (and how they were different from pine nuts). Stabbing an indiscriminate hunk of meat with a knife—he had given up on the cutlery thing a while ago—Kristoff blocked the discourse and focussed on eating. He ripped off a piece of meat with his teeth because no one was paying attention to him anyway. Elsa was slouched in her chair, wine glass in hand and sleepy expression on her face. Anna was criss-crossing her braids under her chin to make a fake beard, humming to herself. Olaf was being Olaf.

Kristoff simply ate. He swallowed his barely chewed meat, staring up at a banner and trying to decide if its sigil bore a stag or a horse. His peace was quite suddenly interrupted by a foot nudging his own. At first he thought it was an accident and paid no mind, tearing off another chunk of meat and continuing to watch the banner. Maybe the sigil was actually a reindeer. That would be cool.

Then the foot snaked up behind his knee, and then it was in his lap.

And then he was choking.

Elsa stirred, sitting straight and grumbling something to herself. Olaf cast Kristoff a sideways glance.

"You all right there, buddy of mine?" he asked, clapping him on the shoulder. "Yeah? Good. Okay, anyway, I liked that particular pine cone because it wasn't so pointy..."

Kristoff reached for his wine, hoping to simultaneously clear his throat and maybe numb his senses a bit. Anna sat innocently across from him, her fake beard dispelled and new distraction apparently founded in Kristoff. He watched her over the rim of his glass, but she wasn't looking anywhere near him. She planted her chin in her palm and watched Olaf with seemingly great interest. Her foot returned not a moment later, however, stockinged toes nudging at the inside of Kristoff's thigh. He sputtered, wiping his hand across his mouth and quickly lowering his wine glass.

"You doing okay there?" Elsa asked dryly, eyebrow cocked.

"Yeah," Kristoff croaked. He cleared his throat, nodding vehemently and staring at the table. "Fine."

Anna worked her foot down his thigh, gentle and mostly innocent despite its dirtier connotations. She hooked her ankle around his knee, continuing to watch Olaf while Kristoff stared at her. She picked up a dessert spoon and brought it to her lips, idly popping it into her mouth and twirling it. Kristoff could feel his jaw lower, and he wasn't sure if he was surprised or turned on or scared or a strange combination of all those things.

She removed the spoon with a wet popping sound.

So, right, yeah, it was definitely the turned on option.

He did consider shooting his chair back and untangling her leg from his own. He also considered throwing a napkin at her head. Both were pretty conspicuous actions. Elsa was slouched over her plate, falling back asleep in a rather ungraceful manner. A bigger action would disturb her again.

So Kristoff simply turned his head, watching Olaf with feigned interest. All the while he forced his boot off with the heel of his other foot. He then slid his foot along Anna's leg and she almost jumped a mile out of her seat.

"Huh? What?" Elsa woke quickly, slamming her fist on the table. "What happened?"

"I found six pine cones!" Olaf proclaimed.

"Did you?" Elsa asked, staring at him.

Anna and Kristoff regarded one another now, her foot halfway up his lap again. Her dress clearly offered a little more flexibility than his trousers, because he couldn't get his leg that high. He could however, use his strength a bit. Wedging his foot up between her knees, he was able to nudge her legs apart. The motion was sudden, surprising her, but the faint demonstration had the desired result because a visible shiver danced up her spine.

Elsa suddenly clapped both hands on the table, glaring back and forth between them.

"Who keeps kicking me?" she asked.

Both their feet returned to their respective side of the table, and they each fumbled with trying to put their shoes back on. They did so while simultaneously pointing to the other person.

Olaf gasped, long and slow.

"Are you guys having a kicking fight?" he asked, eyes wide and expression solemn. But, because he was Olaf, it quickly morphed into delight. "Because I want to play!"

And so it went thusly, supper was dismissed after Olaf kicked Kristoff in the face.


End file.
